Dear Batman
by UltimateSpiderPool
Summary: Bruce Wayne (aka Batman) receives a call for help in the form of an encrypted message. The sender, a young boy named Jayden, is being hunted by an unknown evil... but refuses any help unless it's in the form of advice. Read as Batman tries to steer Jayden away from danger and how his actions are affected by it...all the while clueless that he's getting help from the Batman himself.
1. Chapter 1

_**Sup guys! This is one of the writing splurges I do for fun in my free time. I've never actually published them before because I just wrote them for mwah, but I thought you guys might enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I did another one with Tony Stark (Ironman) and a boy named Jett that I never showed to anyone either. It never got finished, but if you guys like this one I might just make the effort. The messages aren't immediately one after the other, so time does pass between the answers. I cut them into chapters just to make organizing it easier. So read on and enjoy!**_

* * *

Dear Stranger,

Wow. I can't believe I started my "save me" message with a "dear". It feels like I'm writing to my grandma or something. But since I don't know you, let's just go with "or something". _And_ I'm overusing the quotes again. Dang. I'm going to shut up now. Hi, I'm Jayden, but the few people who knew and cared about me called me BJ. Why? Because the few people I knew were weirdos. Anyways, this is in fact a "save me" message, so I should get to that part. I'm being hunted. For what reason, I don't know. But what I do know is that on multiple occasions I've almost been killed in my sleep and the shadows are always following me. And no, I'm not crazy. I know that's exactly what a crazy person would say, but you have to believe me. You're the only one left who can.

BJ🌙

Dear BJ,

See, everyone starts letters with a "dear", not just when writing your grandmother. And seeing as I'm now one of the few weirdos you know, I hope you don't mind me calling you BJ. Being formal in a life or death crisis seems kind of silly to me. Which brings me to your problem... the completely non-crazy problem. You've already said you don't know who or why these "shadows" are hunting you, but if you could give me more information like where you are and where your family is, I might be able to help. Oh, I'm Bruce by the way. That's probably not enough to trust me, but like you said, I'm all you have right now.

Bruce👤


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Grandma,

Yeah... my sense of humor comes out when I'm terrified. Fun fact. The not-so-fun part is that I'm in a life or death crisis. You must be wondering what the upside to this is. Well... at least my family isn't alive to see how completely paralyzed with fear I am. Sorry, I cantrjchekdhdjskhfjrksuwbjekuddbdkehfbfnfj whoah. Calm down nerves. It's just a flashback. Yeah... now I defiantly sound crazy. Grrrr! I can do this! I'm over them! Okay, I understand if you want to throw this number away and forget about my issues. No one asked you to play superhero, and I won't blame you if you stop helping. Just knowing that there's someone else who knows what I know makes this fear a little less intense... and makes this warehouse a little less cold.

BJ🌙

Dear BJ,

It's good to keep a sense of humor in a crisis. It keeps you sane... most of the time. But you should know that I'm not going anywhere, and it's alright to get upset over the loss of your family. And no matter how shallow of a sympathy statement that sounds like, I'm following it up with a few tough questions I hope you can handle. Could you tell me how your family died (if possible) and a few more specifics like your age and what state/city you're in. Again, I'll be right here if you need me, don't feel afraid to reach out. Everyone needs a superhero sometimes.

Grandma👤


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Hero,

I'm got what you implied with the whole crazy sense of humor thing. Don't worry, the Joker's got nothin on me. As for not ditching me in my helpless state... thanks. It means a lot. Now that the mushy moment is over, let's get to tough questions. I was 12 years old last I checked (surprise surprise!) but it's been awhile since I've celebrated my birthday, so I'm probably somewhere between 13 and 14 now. I don't really know where I am exactly. The last place I knew where I was was a month ago in Jersey, but like I said, that was a month ago and I fell asleep on too many trains to keep track. It seems impossible for a teenager like mwah to not have some kind of access to the Internet to search up where I am on the planet (yay for Google maps!) but I've been lying low and staying out of populated areas recently for obvious reasons. Plus, I ditched my good phone so the shadows can't track me... even though that doesn't seem to stop them from knocking on my nonexistent door like the freaking MIB. Last I checked, I was 100% human. This message is going long, so I'll wrap this up. I'm able to contact you through this second rate piece of trash flip phone I found in the (you guessed it) trash. It doesn't have Internet, but it somehow managed to be useful enough to pick up a signal, aka YOU. I'm avoiding the question about my *cough* family because you're right, I don't trust you... yet. For now, I just need advice to get me through the night without a dagger in my back. If you can do that, then I'll have the utmost faith in you. Deal?

BJ🌙

Dear BJ,

You're welcome for not ditching you in your helpless state. It means a lot to me too. And you are nowhere close to being as crazy as the Joker, so don't even joke about it (yes, I realize I said joke twice... three times now). I already had the idea that you were young by the way you talk in your messages, so I'm not _completely_ surprised. But being fourteen and going through all of that pain alone must be hard, especially with no WiFi. I could waste an entire message on saying how sorry I feel for you and try to cheer you up... but that won't stop the shadows from trying to kill you. So I'll stick with earning your trust by giving you advice. No shadow's going to stab you in your sleep if I have anything to say about it. Now, about that signal your POT (piece of trash) phone picked up on, you could only get it if you were in close enough range to me, so that means you're somewhere in Gotham city. Before you panic and run back to New Jersey, there are a few things you need to do. First, stick to populated areas. No matter how dangerous Gothamites may seem, they're nothing compared to the shadows chasing you. The more isolated you are, the easier the target, so get going. Second, I know the POT phone is your only connection to me, but you need to conserve power and keep it off. Contact me only when you need to. Try to find some way to charge it, because once the phone dies, any chance of me helping goes with it. As grim as that sounds. Don't be afraid to send long messages either... mine sure isn't short and sweet.

MIB👤


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Gothamite,

I followed your advice. I went to a populated area. And did I mention how greatly I dislike people? Seriously, I got the middle finger from twelve different hobos, and anytime someone strikes up a conversation it solely consists of cussing. Like, flat out CUSSING. Damn! I'm actually starting to miss Jersey! Oh, and don't think I overlooked that comment about guessing my age by my writing style, know-it-all. If I had to guess, you're an old man by the way you write a letter. Not really, I'm just super pissed at Gothamites right now. But I understand why you're all "no funny business" about me comparing myself to the Joker. Seeing as you live in Gotham, you probably witnessed a lot of the attacks. I'm gonna leave touchy subjects be, so my family doesn't get brought up on your end. Anyways, I agree that you shouldn't waste your time feeling sorry for me... I hate pity more than cussing hobos. Although I do feel a moment of silence is necessary for the loss of my beloved WiFi... may it rest in piece. The first bit of advice you gave me seems to be working since I haven't been malled in my sleep yet. But you don't have to worry about the trash phone running out of battery. While I was dumpster diving (don't judge, I'm fleeing for my life) I pulled together some useful junk like the solar power thingy on calculators, metal wire from who knows where, something I think is a conductor of electricity, and a truckload of chewed gum to stick it all together. Okay, so maybe it was a little more complicated than that, but who am I to bore you with the details? Anywho, I'll contact you if I start to hear voices in my head or if the shadows come back. Oh yeah, and if Moldy Harvey starts calling me names again... I'll need you to call his parents.

BJ🌙

Dear Preschooler,

I'm glad you're making so many new friends in our fine city, even if their characters are somewhat questionable. It's good to hear that you're not in immediate danger, but I can't help but wonder how you're getting food? I'm not accusing you of stealing, I'm just worried. I'm also a little (a lot) impressed that you built a POT charger for the POT phone, considering it's literally a piece of trash. I'm not so impressed by your inaccurate guessing of my age. Just because my writing is better than yours doesn't make me an old man. If the senile can write better than you, then I wonder what will become of the next generation. Back to more serious matters, I hope you were joking about hearing voices. Going insane isn't completely impossible in your situation, so I wouldn't talk about it unless you're being absolutely serious. Not to be a killjoy... but, yeah, being crazy's a killjoy. Don't hesitate to contact me if and when the shadows turn up, and if Moldy Harvey cusses you out again I want to be the first to know.

Bruce👤


	5. Chapter 5

Dear Killjoy,

You know *sniff* it really wounds me *sniff* that you would even suggest that I steal for food. Why, Bruce? Why!? Psych. It's no biggie, there's only a few options for us slumming it in G-city anyways. But no, I've actually built a pretty good system to get food without stealing. There's this super sketchy bakery I found that sells top shelf drugs along with their assorted pastries. In exchange for the almost stale stuff, I take their empty bottles and containers and dump them at an undisclosed location. Sure, its grunt work and the pastries are _almost_ stale, but food's food. I'll take what I can get. The owner of the shop is a real douche though. He's always throwing stuff when he's angry and seems super wound up. I might just find another line of work if he hits me with a baking utensil again. I could always go into electronics. I did do a pretty good job on that POT charger. Heh, I can see it now: Will turn your POT into treasure for only $19.99! Of course, I'll have to clarify that it's not actually "pot" pot, but a piece of trash "POT". Ow, being all business-like hurts my brain. I'll just stick to the grunt work biz.

BJ🌙

Dear BJ,

You need to drop the drug job immediately. These people don't mess around, and once you get too involved, you can't just up and leave without it costing you. That being said, get out of the area as fast as possible and move as far away as you can. Don't leave anything behind for them to track you by. This all might sound like paranoia to you, but if you keep working for these drug dealers you won't have to worry about the shadows finishing you off. You will find a food source elsewhere, even in the electronics business if you can. I know you're not as stupid as you make yourself out to be, you built a phone charger out of a dumpster for crying out loud. Don't prove me wrong by being dumb enough to stick around the bakery for some stale bread. And if you do start a repair shop, I'd bring the price down to $14.99 just to be safe, and not mention pot in the advertisement whatsoever. It could be very misleading.

Bruce👤


	6. Chapter 6

Dear Drill Sergeant,

Sir, yes sir! I'll get right on leaving behind my almost comfy rooftop in my almost deadly neighborhood with its almost stale pastries. ALMOST mind you. Not completely... but almost. Have a little faith in me, m'kay? Believe it or not, I've smelt and dealt with these kind of people before. My dad was actually a dealer. Not a drug dealer per say, but a dealer none the less. Lowlives like bakery man and his hurtling honey-cakes act don't get to me like cussing hobos do. I didn't really ask you for advice on how to handle my people, but getting hunted by shadow ninjas is all new to me, so I don't want to lose your help on that. If I'm not being overly clear, I'm saying that I'll listen to you even though I _really_ don't wanna 'cause the almost stale pastries are delicious. Like blow your brains out yummy. But I'm following your orders captain, and hopefully I'm making the right call. Of the two reasons I'm complying, the most important one is that I don't want you to get fed up with my insubordination and leave me to deal with my demons alone. And by demons I mean shadow ninjas... of course.

Ex-lackey BJ🌙

Dear BJ,

You made the right decision in leaving that dealer, he was nothing but bad news. And just so you know, even if you hadn't followed my advice (and or orders) I wouldn't leave you out there alone. No one should have to fight their demons that way. I also understand that you just want advice and not to be rescued by the police or some superhero, so I won't ask you for your location. But could you at least tell me your full name, or anything else to go on besides Jayden? I can't help you to the best of my abilities if you don't give a little back. I'm not asking for you to give up your family, BJ, I just want to help. And never blow your brains out for a piece of stale bread. It not worth it.

Bruce👤


	7. Chapter 7

Dear Brucey,

You know, now that I know you won't leave no matter what I do, I'm gonna do all the reckless stuff I couldn't do without the fear of you ditching. Like not brushing my teeth three times a day, and staying up past my bedtime watching Batman Beyond. I'm such a rebellious little boy. I feel this is the appropriate time to break into monotonous laughter. MWAHAHAHAHA! Okay, I'm over the rebellious phase now, let's get down to business. I'm not telling you my full name. Period. It's not that I don't almost trust you, but I feel like you're he kind of guy who can track down my past like a bloodhound... in the least offensive way. What I can tell you is what I look like, since I look pretty much like every other 13/14 year old this side of Gotham. Not that I look pretty, I was just saying I share the same ascetic qualities of every other—oh just forget it, you know what I mean. I'm Caucasian (white) with black hair and mismatched blue and green eyes, like a chimera cat or something. I hear it's kind of creepy to have a staring contest with me 'cause my green eye is brighter than the blue one... whatever the hell that means. My hair's all messed up because my sister convinced me to get it cut by a "professional". That's just the fancy word for overpaid pet groomer. So now I got this mop on the top of my head while the rest of it is normal length. Hair gets in my face all the time, and I swear I'm just gonna to take a knife to it soon as I find one. Well, here I am complaining about hair jobs as I roam the streets of Gotham being trailed by shadows and fleeing drug dealing bakers. Who'da thunk. Anyways, we'll go through the whole favorite color favorite food thing later, 'kay? I have an almost comfy refrigerator box to curl up in.

BJ🌙

Dear Pretty Boy,

I have never seen a teenager drop a phase so quickly before. For all I know, you could have been a Goth kid the day before we made contact. And you're right, if I had your full name I could probably Google you and your family pretty quickly. But since you've made it obvious that you're not going to tell me anything about them (besides the sister with bad haircut advice) I'll let it go. The fact that you, as a human, have mismatched eyes is strange. Heterochromia iridium is a very rare condition that only a handful of people in the world have. You should look into it when your WiFi rises from the dead. Since you did give me your description, I can at least do the same. I'm Caucasian with black hair and blue eyes, that's one green eye short of a BJ. Since you're so smart, you should be able to figure out my age by my old man writing. You should stay on alert for the shadows, even if I they haven't shown their faces in awhile. And try not to put a knife anywhere near your face if at all possible, no matter how a annoying your haircut is. Oh, and my favorite color is black.

Bruce👤


	8. Chapter 8

Dear Dad,

Yeah yeah, I know, don't play with evil shadow ninjas and rusty knives. I'm not five, my grammar shows it. And well, I never actually understood "text talk" if you know what I'm saying. If all those letters and numbers are supposed to mean something, then I really need to brush up on the teenager's main language. Or maybe I'm just weird. But not weird enough to have my favorite color be black. Like seriously? It raises some major questions on whether or not you're the real Goth kid here. My favorite color is a little more normal... blue. Or green. Bluish green? I like green a little bit more, but blue's a close second. I know what you're thinking, but my favorite colors have nothing to do with my eyes. It's just a coincidence... I think. Anyways, I don't currently have access to the Internet (sob) but I do know a little bit about my condition. It's caused by the lack of melanin in my right eye, giving it the faded blue appearance. The whole thing is some kind of genetic mutation obviously, and probably passed down from my parents. Which is odd, since both my parents had dark brown eyes, and my sister's were hazel. Who knows, maybe I was adopted. That would explain a lot. Subject change: Don't think I didn't catch that sarcasm, you really need to let the fact that I called you old go. I'll be nice and guess who that you're in your early thirties, but that's just me being nice. If I was going to be honest, I'd say you're around forty. It's really hard to tell the difference once they're all grown up. BTW, my favorite food is chili, which is kind of helpful since the slop at the food kitchen looks like it most of the time. It's not actually chili of course, but my imagination needs the exercise.

BJ🌙

Dear BJ,

I probably sound like a broken record, but I'm serious about keeping a mismatch eye out for the shadows. They could be trying to lull you into a false sense of security before making their move. No amount of "text talk" wisdom can save you from highly trained assassins. I'm just assuming that their assassins since you've used the word "ninja" multiple times. Exactly how long have you been out there on your own? A year? No offense, but seems unlikely that ninjas hired to kill a 13/14 year old boy would go so long without finishing the job. Could they have any ulterior motives for hunting you like, say, your family? It needs to come out sooner or later, Jay. Don't let mistrust be your downfall.

Bruce👤

Dear Broken Record,

Our conversations are getting more and more cheerful, wouldn't you say? I mean, you didn't even banter back about the homeless pity slop looking like chili. Come on, that's golden comedy material right there! *Sigh* I guess I'll this just wasn't meant to $& #%*^+=€~ &$%^*+$& /¥+=*^%#~%¥ &$=+*^%€#

[ERROR]

[ERROR]

[ERROR]


	9. Chapter 9

👤Jayden! BJ, are you there?! Oh sh-

🌙Calm down B-man! I'm not dead! Yay me, right?

👤What. Happened.

🌙I've never actually seen an angry text before, but you really make it work.

👤Jayden...

🌙Okay fine, grumpy cat... the shadows showed up.

👤And?

🌙What do you mean "and"? I panicked and ran for my freaking life!

👤What about the message?

🌙What... oh right! I kinda dropped the POT phone whilst jumping off a building. But on the bright side, I've created the longest curse word in the world!

👤...

🌙Um... did I do something wrong?

👤You jumped off a building?

🌙Pfft! It was only like three stories up! Now if you'd seen the five story one I scaled the other day while fleeing from angry pigeons...

👤Jayden.

🌙Whaaaaaaaat?

👤Can you stop joking for five minutes so we can have a serious conversation.

🌙Um... where do babies come from?

👤I swear...

🌙I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I go nuts with the talking when I'm terrified! And since talking to myself would make me look crazy...

👤Don't-

🌙I know. Don't speak of the unspeakable word in the presence of a Gothamite.

👤You're not letting me finish. Which is surprisingly hard to do when you're messaging back and forth with someone. You need to tell me everything that happened from the moment the ninjas showed up, including what they looked like and what weapons they used. You're not crazy.

🌙Awww! Glad at least one of us thinks so! But back the birds and bees talk... I got a better look at my adversaries this go round, and they're definitely ninjas. It all started when I was chatting it up with you on the rooftop of a three story building. I sat underneath one of those wooden water towers minding my own business when my makeshift perimeter alarm system went off. And by "alarm system" I mean the plastic grocery bags I placed all around the rooftop's edges. One of them rustled, and I dropped to the ground out of pure paranoia. My skittish tendencies payed off, because a just seconds later some kind of ninja shuriken flew by my face, giving me that haircut I sorely needed.

👤What did they look like?

🌙Like any ninja straight out of a comic book. Black suit, black everything. They had those sash/turban/masks that ninjas do. I _so_ know what I'm dressing up for Halloween as.

👤How many of them were there?

🌙Just three that I could see, but that's three too many for my particular skill set. I'm more of a white belt with the yellow stripe kind of karate kid.

👤I can't believe I'm saying this... but you need to go to the police, or at least someone who can keep you safe.

🌙I can't believe you're saying that either. But it doesn't matter, since not even a squeaky clean cop would believe that I'm being hunted by shadows.

👤I believe you.

🌙Yeah, but you're different.

👤How so?

🌙Once you stop believing me... the game ends for you.

👤Jayden... what game?

🌙You're probably sitting all comfy on your living room couch watching the news and enjoying life. What happens to me doesn't affect you, not directly at least.

👤So your saying I have nothing to lose?

🌙I'm saying that you get to play god with a confused boy's life. No one in the world would pass up that chance.

👤And what if I just want to help you?

🌙On some level, you probably do just want to do the right thing. But no one's that genuinely good.

👤I think you're just confusing your past experiences with the present ones. I don't know what went on with your family, but I'm not them. Tell me where you are so I can find you. I can't protect you if I'm sitting on my comfy living room couch doing nothing.

🌙Sorry, guy. I can't be saved just yet. There's this hunch I have on why the shadows haven't killed me yet, and I can't give up until I know why.

👤You don't have to do this, Jayden.

🌙You're wrong... I _need_ this. I don't have all the facts together yet, but when I do I'll contact you. Until then, don't leave me.

[connection cut]


	10. Chapter 10

Dear Jayden,

I haven't heard from you in almost a week. What's going on? Where are you? It would kill me if you ended up dead, so you need to give me something. Anything that tells me you're alive. Did the shadows catch up to you, or was it the drug dealer. Have you eaten anything recently? Am I asking questions to no one in particular because no one in particular isn't messaging back? Come on, kid, you're tougher than this. Don't die.

Bruce👤

Dear Mom,

I feel so loved right now. I really do. With all these messages waiting for me when I finally got the stupid POT phone to work, but the bloody hole in my side is taking away a little bit of the warm fuzzy feeling. Yup, you heard me right, a bloody freaking hole. How did it get there you ask? Well, it had something to do with why the POT lost power. A few days after the shadow attack, pastry pusher showed up with his motley crew and brought along this cute little machine gun. I named it Ducky. Don't ask why. Anyways, the boss said I wasn't being discreet enough with the dumps because Batman showed up and busted the place. At first I was all like "cool!" but after he whipped out Ducky I was all like "crap!". In conclusion, I got away with this singular battle scar, but I accidentally left behind the POT charger. And in my injured state, it took me awhile to build a new one. Speaking of my injured state... how do you disinfect a bullet wound and or remove said bullet from wound? I stopped the bleeding, but it's getting super uncomfortable in there, and I don't want to die over one missed tetanus shot. Oh yeah, and I'm in excruciating pain 24/7 if I don't sound like I'm dying enough. And no, I haven't eaten anything for fear of it falling out of the hole in my side.

No One in Particular🌙


	11. Chapter 11

Dear BJ,

I can't believe that—never mind, your injury's more important right now. It's good that you stopped the bleeding, but you need to remove that bullet as soon as possible. You might think you're hurting now, but just wait till it gets infected. Don't use any junk you find to remove the bullet with, it could do more harm than good. Personally, I think you should be in a hospital bed. It's a miracle that you haven't died already. You need to stop being stubborn and get yourself help for once. I above everyone am a total hypocrite for saying that, but it's the truth. Don't wait too long to make your decision, by then it may be too late.

Hypocrite👤

Dear Nurse,

Every non-bleeding muscle in my body wants to say "no" just for the sake of stubbornness, but the bleeding muscles have more say in this than the others, so I'll do it. I won't stay in the hospital long though, just until the evil little bugger gets flushed out and I become a living mummy. It'll be a fix and flee scenario, I never really like hospitals anyways. They're way too similar to morgues... not that I've ever been to a morgue. You shouldn't be so tough on yourself though. Being thick headed is just a character trait mankind is born with. Heh, here I am giving you the pep talk when I'm the one with the—crap! It's starting to bleed through again! I'll message you from the hospital... or from the morgue.

BJ🌙


	12. Chapter 12

Dear Mr. Mummy,

How are you doing? I thought about sending you a "get well" card, but then again, you refuse to tell me anything about your location. Or name... or past. I know what it's like to lose family at a young age, so don't think you can't open up because I won't understand. Actually, why don't we make a deal. You tell me about your family, and I'll tell you about mine. No one's forcing you to, but you might want to reconsider keeping it all locked up inside. The pain can dig into your heart worse than any bullet.

Bruce👤

Dear Bruce,

So an orphan walks into a hospital... the punchline is as boring as the opening act. I'm propped up in a bleach white bed in a bleach white room in a bleach white building. I'm starting to hate any all things marshmallow-colored. Can I join you in the "black's my favorite color" club? I'm ready to convert. At least the Jell-O's not half bad... and I'm going to ignore the little commonsense voice in the back of my brain telling me all the unpleasant ingredients Jell-O is made out of. Not eyeballs. 100% not made out of eyeballs. I made sure to ditch the IV needles once Nurse Joy left the vicinity. I do not need nighty night juices weighing me down as I make my escape. But since I'm not exactly in a hurry to be anywhere, I might as well take your deal. But you're going to have to promise on your goldfish's grave that you won't tell ANYONE. My personal stuff stays personal if you know what I mean. Here we go: I had a normal family. Normal if your dad is a weapons dealer, your mom is a scientist, and your sister is the greatest genius prodigy psychologist tomboy of the century. Yeah, pretty normal if you ask me. If you took one look into our tiny hole of an apartment, you'd see activity out the wazoo. Mom would be cooking up something completely non-edible and potentially lethal, while dad would run back and forth from the basement to his shop next door with new orders coming in. Cody would be sitting at the kitchen table reading comics, every once and awhile breaking into tearful laughter at something funny the hero said or did. She didn't seem like the insightful type, but she had her moments of genius. I would be doing something completely unimportant and boring compared to my family's hobbies... like building stuff out of trash. I was the house mechanic, I probably picked it up from watching my dad assemble weapons all the time. I built a robotic tail for the family cat, Blacky... so that's something. Cody would always joke that me and the little black cat were related, since he had mismatched green blue eyes just like me. Hence the nickname BJ, aka BlackJay. It's weird, granted, but I've gotten used to it. So that's my family. If you want to know more, then you've gotta give me the goods on you and yours. I'm not going anywhere fast.

BlackJay🌙


	13. Chapter 13

Dear BlackJay,

It's hard to tell if someone's lying through text messages, but I'm just going to have to believe everything you've told me about your "normal" family is true. And since we made a deal, I'm going to tell you what my family was like. You could say that we were more "better off" than most people, my father had a solid job and my mother played an important role in supporting him. Another member of the family was Alfred, a good and loyal friend that I still have to this day. I always thought that my parents were good people, heroes even. Helping those in need and looking out for the little guys. That's what I thought. But they were actually involved in projects that are the very definition of corrupted. All the good I thought they were doing was just a coverup for the ugly underneath. Although, in the end they tried to turn their mistakes around, tried to genuinely do good in their work. Unfortunately, the people they worked with didn't like their change of heart... and had them murdered. I was there when it happened, and that moment is seared into my memory forever. The worst mistake I ever made was keeping all that anger to myself. So trust me, you do not want to end up like I did.

Bruce👤

Dear Bruce,

Wow. You're making it really hard not to spill my guts about how my family 💀 and everything. I mean, now it's like have no choice but to tell you. I don't like being cornered, bro. The guilt trip is real. But I'm still hung up on how the shadow ninjas are only ALMOST killing me instead of ACTUALLY killing me. I wouldn't be so suspicious if they were cowardly assassins, but we all know the most intimidating thing about me is my ability to creep people out in staring contests. Now that I think about it, I've never really been "mortally wounded" by the shadows like this Pastry Man's pie hole in my side. I would talk to you more about it, but I'm currently planning my escape from white wonderland here. I'll message you after I destroy any security camera footage of me and get rid of that blood sample Nurse Joy stole in my helpless state. Oh, and then I'll somehow climb out the window two stories up with a bullet wound. There should be a prize for all the reckless and potentially stupid things I do. It could be called the Dum Dum Award.

Patient BJ🌙


	14. Chapter 14

Dear Dum Dum,

Even though you are by far one of the stupidest kids I've ever made contact with, I do know of a few people much more deserving of that reward than you. It's nothing to be disappointed about, being an idiot isn't an admirable quality. I'm still finding it hard to believe that a kid like you had such an... odd family. And when you said your father was a weapons dealer, my mind immediately assumes that they were illegal weapons. Stop me if I'm wrong though, it's not like you've been exactly open about anything until you got shot with a machine gun.

Bruce👤

Dear Douche,

Yeesh, can't a kid keep a few secrets from a complete stranger? It's not like we're best buds and I'm expected to let you read my diary (I don't have a diary, it was a figure of speech). But I can see how it would be annoying for me to ask for help and not give you anything in return, so I'll bite. Yeah, my dad sold _illegal_ weapons. Oh, the horror. It's not like he ever actually killed with them... he just sold them so other people could. Sure, it's a horrible way to live, but it was the business passed down to him by his father, plus people already depended on him for supplies. Excuses excuses, they're not mine, but his. My mom always lectured him about how he wasn't helping mankind by selling them guns to shoot themselves with, but in the end she needed the money for her experiments. She wasn't an evil scientist if that's what you're thinking, she made breakthroughs in chemistry and biology and sold them to companies to do good with. Most of the work she did was on curing diseases. My mom was the hero and my dad was the villain. My sister Cody took after Mom in the superhero area, and I guess I kinda followed in my father's evil footsteps. But we were a happy family. There was always laughing in the house when everyone was together, most of it coming from Cody. She was the lightbulb to my Dark Ages to put it poetically. It's not fair that someone so good had to die. Anyways, I'll be escaping from my pristine white grave with its putrid medicine smell now. Don't expect to hear from me until I'm in a galaxy far far away. And if the Jell-O company sues for leaking their secret ingredient, tell them I'm sleeping with the goldfishes.

BJ the Bad Guy🌙


	15. Chapter 15

👤BJ, are you there?

🌙¡Si, mi amigo!

👤I thought you said I wasn't your friend

🌙No, I said you weren't my buddy. There's a difference.

👤I'm assuming you're in a galaxy far far away, since you bothered to answer me.

🌙Well look at you, mister smarty pants! Yeah, I'm out of that morgue everyone calls a hospital. Did you know that it's extremely difficult and painful to shimmy out a window with a bullet wound?

👤Yes.

🌙...You do?

👤That's not important.

🌙Maybe not, but it's a pretty good conversation starter.

👤So you really want to re-live dropping from two stories up into a rose bush?

🌙Well, when you put it that way... hey, how did you know I fell into a rose bush?

👤It was just a lucky guess.

🌙Mmm hm... just like how Batman just "happened" to break up the drug dealing ring back at the pastry shop I worked for.

👤What are you implying, Jayden?

🌙Well, BRUCE, just that things aren't always what they seem and kids aren't as dumb as they look. I know you know where I am and could probably call the cops on me if you wanted to. I've given up enough information on me for you to track down my past, so why don't YOU just tell me how my family died? You are the world's greatest detective after all (besides Sherlock Holmes, let's not disrespect the classics).

👤...

🌙What? Just because my WiFi's gone doesn't mean my brain is. Even though Wikipedia would be useful right about now, I wonder how many billionaires out there are named Bruce...

👤Exactly what are you getting out of this?

🌙Tell. Me. How. They. Died. I want to hear it from someone who wasn't there.

👤Your family?

🌙Who else? My army of deceased goldfish?

👤Are you sure you want me to tell you?

🌙Come on. I was there when it happened, it's not like I can get any more broken inside.

👤...Alright. But you have to promise you will keep in contact with me no matter how angry you get.

🌙Whatevs, I don't do grudges.

👤Promise.

🌙Gosh! Fine! Cross my heart and hope to die.

👤Jayden.

🌙I promise! Get to the waterworks already!

👤So the news article said this: Three of a family of four were shot dead in their home at around 8:30 PM on Friday. The victims were mother and father Ellena and Markus Archer, and their sixteen year old daughter Cody. From evidence gathered at the crime scene, the killer is suspected to be 13-year-old Jayden Archer, the only other living relative and son of the deceased. The suspect fled the scene and has not been located since. If you come in any contact with a person of this description, you are advised to call the authorities immediately. The suspect is potentially homicidal and extremely dangerous. Jayden Archer is Caucasian male, 5 foot 1, hair color black, mismatched green blue eyes...

🌙I know, I know, I'm short for my age.

👤Jay...

🌙Don't "Jay" me, mister. I know you think I did what they said. That I murdered my family.

👤...Well did you?

🌙What do you think?

👤I don't think I know you enough to judge correctly.

🌙That's absolutely right!

👤But I don't know you enough to trust you either. This article is from two years ago. How long have you been out on your own?

🌙Wait... two years? I thought it was only one! Damn, I haven't grown an inch either!

👤How can you not notice an entire year missing?

🌙Um... maybe my body missed the memo too, cause if I haven't mentioned, I'm still short! Hey, that means I'm actually fifteen! Go figure, I could've gotten a job in Jersey this whole time!

👤BJ, are you panicking?

🌙What?! How did you know? I thought I was doing a pretty good job at keeping the mortal terror out of my texts!

👤You've been ending all your sentences in exclamation marks.

🌙Oh.

👤Can we forget your memory loss for a second and get back to your family?

🌙Forget memory loss? Who wouldn't?

👤What really happened that night?

🌙I thought you said you didn't trust me.

👤Trust can be earned, so earn it.

🌙Mmmmmm, okay. So you're playing dominos at the kitchen table with your fam, and there's a knock at the door that leads to Dad's _illegal_ weapons shop. It's usually used by his customers, so Dad goes over and opens the door without hesitation. And surprise surprise, it's one of those shadow ninjas that have been chasing me for the past forever. I never saw one of 'em before that night, but my dad has had some pretty freaky look'n customers before, so it's not like we were all too surprised. Nothing crazy happened, no SUV's crashed into the room and no katana's whipped out. Dad just walked outside with the ninja and started talking to him/her in a hushed tone. The rest of my family and I just kept playing dominos like it was any normal night... that is, until Dad started yelling. He wasn't known to be an angry man, more of the strong and silent type actually, so his sudden outburst made all of us a little jumpy beans. It's super hard to remember, but he shouted something like, "Over my dead body!" And the ninja said something like, "As you wish." And bam! Daddy's dead. He/she used a gun instead of their ninja weapons, so that was weird. The shadow pulled the same gun on Mommy and Sissy too (don't mind the toddler speak, it's how I cope). So there I sat at the kitchen table, paralyzed as my family's murderer walks up to me. I half expect the shadow to blow my brains out just like everyone else, but instead he/she hands me the gun. What the hell was that ninja trying to prove? It's not like I was going to shoot him/her with the damn thing! Well, I did actually... but that's not the point. The point is that I got set up by a crazy shadow assassin. And I didn't even get one shot in before he/she (oh, for Phil's sake, I have no idea whether it was a girl or guy!) got away. I don't know what else I can say to make you believe me. This is all I got.

👤One thing I know for certain and have been saying since the moment we made contact is that you're not crazy. And since only an insane person would murder their own family, that makes you innocent.

🌙Finally! Someone who gets it!

👤Also, it matches up with why the ninjas are hunting you.

🌙Of course there's and "also". You can never just take my word for it.

👤Which brings us to why the ninjas are hunting you.

🌙Yeah, I've been thinking on that for a while, and I still find it strange that my stalkers haven't killed me yet... unless they're not trying to kill me.

👤Explain.

🌙Well, um, the one who 💀 my family could have 💀 me just as easily. He didn't obviously. I mean, that's so obvious right? Not like scarring me for life is anywhere near being as bad as getting knocked off.

👤You're getting off topic.

🌙Ahem, right. Well the ninjas have definitely kept me on high alert for the past TWO years (apparently) and I've picked up a whole bunch of tricks I never knew I could do before. Like jumping off three story buildings without breaking my legs. And erasing all evidence of my stay at the morgue *cough* hospital.

👤Your point?

🌙I'm a better person because of it. Sure, I used to meddle with burnt out toasters and turn 'em into flamethrowers, but it's not like I was the street smart lone wolf badass I am now (pardon the language).

👤So your a better person because your family was murdered?

🌙NO! Dude! Did I ever say that? Okay, maybe I should rephrase what I did say. I'm a DIFFERENT person because of it. Not necessarily better. The paranoia is something I can do without. But I somehow walked (crawled) away from a machine gun fight with only one (very painful) wound. I'm doing things I've never dreamed of doing, like working for a drug dealer (okay, so maybe that wasn't one of my brightest ideas, but I'm bound to make mistakes) and escaping from that chalky white death trap you call a hospital.

👤So basically, you're saying that the assassins are actually HELPING you?

🌙Not on purpose. Or maybe they are, I don't know. This whole this seems pretty strange to me.

👤Not just you, kid. Can you seriously not remember the first year after everything happened?

🌙Nope. Nothing super memorable to be remembered here. Though it kinda creeps me out to think of myself wandering around in a haze for a whole twelve months. How did I NOT get hit by a car? Or a bus. Or a unicycle.

👤Alright, then can you remember what you did right after your family 💀?

🌙Ummmmm... no?

👤Is that a question, BJ?

🌙Is that impatience, Batman?

👤What am I supposed to do when you tell me that you suddenly have all these gaps in your memory?

🌙I don't know! Bake me a cake? I mean, I did miss like two birthdays.

👤Boo hoo. Throw a pity party later.

🌙You mean a b-day party, right? I still want cake.

👤When did the shadows start following you?

🌙I don't know... they've always just been there. Everywhere. Aww crap! I'm so going nuts in the basement of a mannequin factory!

👤You're not- a mannequin factory?

🌙Hey, when you're in Gotham you live in style. I've got all the rubber company in the world. Let's just hope Doctor Who is somewhere nearby for the off chance that these guys come to life. And no, I'm not a mannequin factory.

👤I'm going to ask you a question that will probably sound ridiculous at first, but I have a reason for asking it, so bear with me.

🌙Hey, all you've been doing is asking ridiculous questions, I think I've put up with you long enough to hear one more.

👤You do realize that your snarky attitude towards me hasn't changed even after you found out I was Batman.

🌙Yup! That's what created this snarky cycle of me going back to read my old texts, then laughing at myself, then saying something witty in the present texts, then reading over the old texts again. It's surprisingly entertaining for someone who has absolutely nothing going on in their life. You should know the feeling.

👤Wow. Everything you just said has nothing to do with my statement.

🌙That's the point, brochacho! I once read somewhere that you should never call someone "brochacho", and that it ends relationships faster than pets. This is me hinting that we should breakup.

👤I can't even- give me a second.

[Batman is busy]

🌙This totally just became a Lifeline game. But the real question is whether or not I'm the one who needs saving here.

👤Alright, I'm done.

🌙Doing what? Crying?

👤Just the opposite actually.

🌙Wait... so-

👤The question, Jayden. The question.

🌙Ah, the potentially ridiculous question of the century. I remember now, it's distracting me from what you were doing behind that [Batman is busy] sign.

👤Focus.

🌙Right. I am 100% focus- hey look! A naked mannequin lady!

[Batman is busy]

🌙Yeah... no. We all know what your doing back there, Brucey. I'm surprised it's taken this long for you to crack.

👤Ahem, let's get back to being professional, shall we?

🌙There is no professional to "get back" to. I am one hundred percent hilarious all the time.

👤Well, try thinking of all the abandoned puppies on the streets of New Jersey, then come back to me with your funny.

🌙No! Not the puppies!

👤Yes, BJ. The puppies.

🌙You monster! How could you!

👤I did nothing.

🌙Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Bruce. You keep telling yourself that.

👤...

🌙...

👤How did our conversation come to this?

🌙It all started getting weird after I brought up the Snarky Cycle. Either that or the naked mannequin lady.

👤Hmmmmm...

🌙You're trying not to laugh aren't you?

👤Very desperately, yes.

🌙Maybe we should continue this conversation later when your back to your "no funny business" self and I'm a little more depressed at the state of the world.

👤That sounds like a plan.

...

🌙But seriously, about the mannequin lady-

👤Nope! We're ending it here!

 **A/n: I got a little carried away there at the end, but like I said before, I usually write these for fun in my free time. I get to skip right to the conversations without all the technical narrator storytelling getting in the way so the characters can tell it instead of me. You guys should know that I write three or four of these short chapters in a matter of hours, so unless I go to ANOTHER summer camp, the updates will be pretty quick. Oh, and please review your thoughts. Unless they're completely offensive for trolling reasons, I usually take them pretty seriously. Anything OOC is just because I write all of this with the story in mind, not exactly for accuracy. *Sigh* Oh, the joys of freehand fanfiction. It is now and forever will be my favorite past time.**


	16. Chapter 16

Dear BJ,

I am back to my "no funny business" self, as I hope you are a little more depressed at the state of the world, because I will be asking that ridiculous-sounding question now. So here it is: Can you remember your childhood? Now, that might sound like a ridiculous question, but so is asking how to disinfect a bullet wound. What I'm saying is that in your particular case a lot of things are strange. So really just think hard about your past in a new light. I feel like if you were here you would hit me for suggesting that you're so scatterbrained as to forget your childhood, but my question is a serious one, and I'll tell you why I asked after you answer... in a completely serious way.

Bruce👤

Dear Old Self,

Your are completely right. I would hit you so hard right now if I could. But since your gonna be a jerk and not come over here so I can punch you in person, I'm just going to have to settle with this virtual one 👊. Don't mistake the emoji as a bro fist, this one's completely different. But since I can't stay mad at you forever (which ruins relationships even FASTER than calling someone "brochacho") I've given some seriously serious thought to your serious question. And let me tell you, if I wasn't depressed at the state of the America's poor choices in health insurance before, I am now. Since my family wasn't your average one, we didn't really do stuff like photo scrapbooks. We never really talked about how I was born, what my first word was, or many other completely embarrassing stories that you pray never leave the confines of your home. Of course, we never did that with Cody either, but that's just because our family's weird. Now here's the trippy part. I started thinking back farther and farther in my childhood memories, to the point where everything is fuzzy. And believe it or not, everything goes blank around the age of 9. Literally, I've tried to remember the day I stuck Blacky's tail in the toaster, and the time Cody and I stole our neighbor's sheets from the clothesline and used them as capes... but he truth is, I don't think any of those things ever happened. I mean, the stories are there, but the memories aren't. But I have the strange feeling that I've lived my whole life in that apartment, and I obviously don't have the intelligence of a third grader, so none of this makes sense! Do I have amnesia? I swear, this is my _life_ we're talking about, not a frig'n Lifeline game! Why am I asking you all of this? It's those ninjas that have all the answers! That settles it. Next time one of those (beep)ing shadows try to scare me again, I'm going to wup their asses as hard as possible with my white belt with yellow stripe ninja skills! And maybe, just MAYBE, I'll stop kicking them long enough for them to tell me what the hell's going on. Or I'll just keep kicking. Who knows.

Not V. Adams🌙


	17. Chapter 17

Dear Jayden,

You're probably very frustrated having to deal with assassins constantly terrorizing you for apparently no reason (I know I would be), but you can't just recklessly confront these people and think that they won't kill you. We've only assumed up to this point that they don't want you dead, but these ninjas might not take your sudden change of approach very lightly. I'm Batman. You know that, I know that. So just let me do what I do and figure this out. Give me some time to piece together your past, and I promise you that I will find answers. But until I do, stay alive and don't go out of your way to draw attention. Open an electronics repair shop. Do whatever you have to do to keep busy, just don't put yourself in danger. (P.S. Delete this last message for secret identity reasons. It shouldn't disrupt your Snarky Cycle too much.)

Batman👤

Dear (deleted for secret identity reasons),

I know somewhere deep down in my three sizes too small Grinch heart that you're right... but that doesn't change the fact that I really want to give these shadows a piece of my mind. Even so, it does make me feel better that (deleted for security reasons) will be beating the crap out of my stalkers instead of myself with my underwhelming martial arts abilities. Well, I'm not _that_ bad, so maybe they're just whelming. Is that even a word? My spelling check hasn't shot me down for it, so I'd say yes. Anywho, the abandoned mannequin factory where I currently reside has a pretty convenient set up in the front where there's a large rectangle cut into building with a counter in between, like some kind of snack shop window. I've also found a whole bunch of tools around (mannequin factory, duh) so this place has all the makings of a repair shop. I can even get artsy and dress up a mannequin and stick it out front like a mascot. I'll name it Marzipan. Don't ask why. Oh, and don't think I got this idea because you just so happened to suggest it, I was already planning on doing this anyways. And the hole in my side still hurts BTW. I'm bringing this up just to remind you how you're "trying to help" last time with the pastry dealer got me shot. Why am I being so cruel to guilt-trip you? Well, you can imagine how many abandoned mannequin factories are in Gotham, and how easy it would be for you to pop in unannounced. If I'm not being clear enough: STAY AWAY FROM ME. Not that I hate you, I just don't want any unwanted attention. And just so it doesn't look like I'm being too easy on you, I'm naming this place The POT Shop. Who cares if it's misleading, it'll bring in way more costumers! (P.S. The Snarky Cycle includes you too. You are funny when you try.)

BJ🌙


	18. Chapter 18

Dear Whelming Ninja,

I'll let you believe that the repair shop was your idea for the sake of peace... but for the sake of stubbornness, I named the POT phone. There, I said it. You can call your shop a piece of trash all you want, I won't stop you. Just have Marzi the mannequin hold a sign saying "pot not sold here" and you'll be good. The fact that you want my advice so badly but can't stand the thought of being helped would be confusing to anyone else, but I agree to not pop in unannounced. Mostly, because as hard as it is to admit, I do feel guilty for provoking the events that caused you pain. I'll make it up to you by having (deleted for security reasons) beat the crap out of the drug dealer and his gang. I'll be dropping them off to the police of course... just with the bonus of a few slightly broken bones. You can consider it a result of guilt-tripping the (deleted for security reasons).

Bruce👤

Dear B-man,

I see what you're doing. You're trying to make me think that your breaking a few thugs is somehow my fault. Well, ha! I don't care what happens to those bread heads as long as they're out of my business. A little bit of therapy is good for the clinically stupid anyways. That was a load of muffins you gave me as an apology though. But what else should I expect from YOU. Anywho, I'm stealing your idea for Marzi holding the disclaimer sign. Arrest me if you dare! And I'm holding you to your word on not poking your pointy black ears in my POT shop anytime soon. Oh, I forgot to mention that Marzipan is the formerly unsightly mannequin lady from before. I say formerly because I borrowed with no intention of returning some clothes for her (she was starting to creep me out). Like, how totally sketchy is it that Marzi's the only girl mannequin in this joint? But I would generally like to get clothes for (and or burn) the rest of these mannequins. Hey, it could be a theme or something. Customers are attracted to stores with weird fetishes. Also, advice is different than real live "help" help. The former doesn't completely undermine your confidence like the latter does. I'm just an inexperienced little kid (well, I can't really say that anymore since I'm apparently 15, but I feel way younger) and I don't know everything there is to know. Yet. It's hard to work on intel gathering when you're disconnected from your Wi-Fi (sob) but I guess this whole alone and abandoned thing is good for experience points. And by alone and abandoned I mean besides you. Which would confuse most people... including me.

BJ🌙


	19. Chapter 19

Dear BJ,

I would let you catch up with your pastry buddies in prison for stealing my idea, but unfortunately I already said I would stay away from you. And I if you're going to complain about my whelming apology, then go find some other more compassionate hero to give you advice. Anyways, wouldn't it be difficult to find (borrow with no intention of returning) enough clothes for all the mannequins? Of course, I'm not saying you should go the extreme and burn them all, but if they're creeping you out just find a corner to shove them in. Or you could go to the other extreme and make it a theme. A very disturbing theme. I'm just asking out of suspicion how you're getting food now that the drug dealers won't be hiring you anytime soon. You mentioned a soup kitchen (except you said "food" kitchen for some reason) but I have the feeling that you have too much pride to even walk into one. But that aside, I'm surprised that you've been considering your whole experience as a way to learn more. Any other kid would just complain about their terrible life and not see it as an opportunity to grow. And don't be confused at why I'm not abandoning you, not everyone is that easy to scare off.

Bruce👤

Dear Jerk,

Your super mean, you know that? Like, you start saying all that cool stuff, and then you get to "opportunity to grow". I'm short. You knew that. Grrrrr! I hate you for being funny sometimes! Who knows, I might just take your suggestion and go ask Superman for advice instead. Except I hate Superman more than you, so that's out of the question. But back to current matters, I have not lowered myself to the point of entering that horrid building known as a food kitchen. I refuse to call it the other despicable word because just thinking about that liquid makes me want to puke. It's not my favorite meal in the world, let's just say that. I was hoping to live of my earnings at the POT Shop, but the only customers I've gotten so far are just looking for marijuana. Which I gladly responded by chucking mannequin limbs at them through the shop window. The nerve of some junkies, you know? Anywho, I've been able to scrounge up just enough food so I don't starve to death, but I'm not exactly snacking on chips if you know what I mean. I'm going to stop talking about food now so I don't mistake this screwdriver as a sausage. For my whole life (or at least the parts I can remember) I've had the overwhelming urge to know more about everything. Just like I have the overwhelming urge to burn all these mannequins. I'm seriously considering whether or not I will become a pyromaniac if I do give into this urge. But in my defense, this factory is freezing at night, no matter how many clothesline sheets I borrow with no intention of returning. Ug, I'm getting off topic again. So about my less crazy urge, I'd always take the long and hard way of figuring out questions on my own. Like why is the sky blue? One book about air molecules and light rays later, I had my answer. Sure, I could have just Googled the answer, but even then I wouldn't have understood it. Knowing is different than understanding. For example: You could know that a girl cuts herself, but you wouldn't understand that she does it to make the worse pain go away. You could know that a boy pushes himself, but you wouldn't understand that he does it because he feels he's never good enough. You could know that a girl sets fire to everything, but you wouldn't understand that she does it to feel alive. You could know that a boy's family was murdered, but you wouldn't understand why. I need to know why. That all came out way deeper than I meant it to be, but I still got my point across... I think. I want to do anything I can to help figure out why all this happened to me. Not that I'll be interrogating ninjas or anything, but I'm not going to be sitting around doing nothing. You know, except when I have nothing to do.

BJ🌙


	20. Chapter 20

Dear Could-be Pyro,

You are short. It's a fact and it's nothing to be ashamed of. But it does make for a good joke. Why do you hate Superman? I know he can be a little proud (and annoying) sometimes, but he is generally one of the good guys. Oh, and stop being a stubborn bull and get in that soup kitchen. I don't care if you hate soup more than Supey, your dignity isn't worth starvation. You wouldn't be having this problem in the first place if you hadn't named your store after drugs, believe it or not, nobody goes to a place named the POT Shop looking for repairs. It just doesn't happen. And yes, burning all the mannequins would technically make you a pyro, so don't you dare. I'm going to stop lecturing you now before I get too angry. It makes sense that someone like you with gaps in their memory would want to know as much as possible. It could be a side effect of amnesia... or you're just one of many average nerds. Don't think that you can't say things that sound deep or maybe even a little dark, because it's impossible and impractical for someone in your situation to stay positive 24/7. And honestly, I know the feeling of needing to know why bad things turn out the way they do, and what motivates the offenders to such violence in the first place. So I won't stop you from doing your own investigation as long as you don't put yourself in too much danger. Which is ironic, since that's all you've been doing since the day we made contact. I'll handle the ninja interrogations, and you stay away from matches, lighters, and anything else potentially flammable.

Bruce👤

Dear Principal,

You lecture a lot. You really do. Maybe it's just a superhero thing, or maybe it's just a (deleted for secret identity reasons) thing. I'm leaning more towards the second. And it's not my fault that I'm always almost dying! What else is gonna happen when your being hunted by ASSASSINS?! And since you voiced that I can be as Debbie Downer as I want, I'll just whip out my Goth kid diary and read off all the dark heartfelt poems. Number one:

Darkness.

Dying puppies.

Shadows.

Darkness.

Soup.

Gas prices.

Darkness

Potholes.

Hillary Clinton.

Rainbows are the bane of my existence.

You see what I'm talking about? You DO NOT want me to let loose and be negative. I think a panda somewhere just died after that! Now I feel guilty. Now I feel depressed. What have I done. I've realeased a monstrosity of a poem into the world, that's what I've done. I'm going to go bury myself in a pile of mannequins in a dark corner and think about my life. Oh wait, I can't remember half of it! Never mind, I give up on being Goth. It's way to depressing for a devil-may-care kid like me-self. I actually found the phrase "devil-may-care" when I was searching up synonyms for "happy-go-lucky" a while ago. Ah, the Internet. How I miss thee. Anywho, I'm not eating at the FOOD kitchen, and you can't make me (please don't take that as a challenge, somehow I don't think I can beat you) but I will be putting a sign up under the "POT Shop" one that says: Electronics Repairs. That'll teach those junkies to stay away. Unless they come back for another mannequin limb whipping, in that case I'll be happy to comply. Also, I guess "hate" is a pretty strong word for Superman. So I'll say that I greatly dislike him. Why? Because I generally don't like any overpowered alien/god/meta who acts like they can't destroy the planet in one punch. Maybe it's just my inferior insecurity, but that's a completely horrifying idea. I mean, it's great and all that he's saving people and being a hero, but what happens when he decides to change his mind. Superman is there to save the world... but who is there to save the world from Superman? No one's in control of the power on this planet anymore, and being human just makes that fact even more terrifying. Before, you could trust the system because the bad guys were "only human", but now, I'm not sure what they are. My sister loved superheroes because it gave her hope in a better world, but I greatly dislike overpowered superheroes because it gives me fear of what could happen. And of the things that have already happened. But you know, ignore my rambling. It's not like you haven't heard all of this before. It's impossible NOT to have an opinion on powered people now a days. I sincerely hope I misjudged Superman though. It wouldn't hurt to prove me wrong.

BJ🌙


	21. Chapter 21

Dear Telepath,

Your opinion on overpowered superheroes matches mine word for word (besides the bad haircut advice giving, genius prodigy psychologist, hero-loving sister part). It's true that the number of powered people has grown drastically, from aliens to meta-humans. And it can sometimes seem like the world is being overrun by villains and criminals that should only exist in the farthest corners of hell, but that's no reason to be afraid. The day you should be afraid is the the day when no one tries. When no one tries to stop the monsters and the demons and whatever else comes crawling out from under your bed. Pray that day never comes. But until Superman does decide to become a world dominating overlord, he deserves the benefit of the doubt. Not that I don't have a bat-load of kryptonite handy if I'm wrong. And I'm almost never wrong. Almost. Plus, if the kryptonite doesn't work, we could always use your panda-killing Goth diary poems. I can't imagine anyone withstanding one of those intensely concentrated punches of pure gloom... besides myself of course. And maybe Alfred. On a more serious note, have you seen any sign of the ninja shadows recently? I mean, _really_ looked for them? I know they're still watching you, and since you made me promise not to come near you (one I am now regretting) you're going to have to be my eyes and ears. And if you make a joke about my pointy bat ears, I will throw my word out the window... and you along with it.

Bruce👤

Dear Brucey,

I can't believe you just threatened me to not make fun of your- on second thought, I'd like to live to see my second customer, thank you very much. This Alfred guy you mentioned must be pretty tough to be able to butt heads with my Goth diary poems of doom and gloom. I'll just have to borrow him as a bodyguard when the world is ending and Hillary Clinton becomes president. I know I already milked that joke, but come on, we all knew it was coming. Hey, maybe you should run for president! You could just bat-glare down everyone who disagrees with your proposals. Of course, the casualties would be many, but the result could make this country great again! (I'm sorry for all the political jabs, the hobo across the street ranting about the election is rubbing off on me) Anywho, I have (in fact) been scouring the rooftops for toe-sock clad ninjas. Every once and awhile I catch a shadow moving when it should be mimicking a flagpole, but other than that, all's been quit. Except for my very first customer. She's a piece of work, I can tell you that. So a long choppy haired hippy with her anti-violence aura and tie dye baggy pants saunters up with a giant gym bag in her arms. I have no problem with her (questionable) appearance... but her motor mouth could run the Batmobile I'm telling you! She went on and on and on and on and on and on and oooooooon about how he mother got this evil long-haired cat that only peed on HER pillow and only scratched up HER curtains and only bit all HER toes and only shed on HER pop tarts! I was just waiting for someone to put me out of my misery with a mannequin arm. So, after a good ten minutes of ranting about how her cat was practically an evil ninja set out to destroy her (oh, the irony) Hippy opened up the giant gym bag to reveal junk. Literal in all ways junk. She explained that the cat (named Precious, but she referred it to as Golem) had broken their antique grandfather clock whilst escaping from a dreaded bath. I have no idea how one cat did so much damage to such a large object (I'm blaming Lord of the Rings) but Hippy volunteered the information that there was a chain reaction of things falling over set in motion by said cat. I also have no idea how this skinny as sticks twenty-something year old lugged an entire grandfather clock all the way here in a gym bag. A GYM BAG! I'm so confused with reality right now, you have no idea. So now I'm dumped with the task of somehow turning this piece of junk into a more functional piece of junk. It shouldn't be too hard since clockwork isn't exactly rocket science, but it's definitely going to take time. A lot... a lot of time. But I'm not going anywhere (unless the flagpole suddenly attacks) and Hippy's paying me seventy bucks for this job! She could probably buy a whole new clock with that kind of money, but it's not like I'm going to tell her that. Little white lies make the money wheel go round.

Businessman BJ🌙

 **A/n: All opinions and/or insults are only those of the characters, not the author. Make it your moral code not to take offense to political POT, there are better things to be angry about. Like dying pandas.**


	22. Chapter 22

Dear Pinocchio,

I know as a fact that you are just the kind of person to make jokes about things that are to never be spoken of in a disrespectful way (the cowl has practical uses, you know) so my threat isn't unjustified. That being said, I have no intention of running for president. Not every argument can be won with the bat-glare... just most of them. And I'm pretty sure the only reason you've kept up this carefree attitude towards me so far is because you've never experienced it firsthand. I plan on changing that if we ever meet. Yes, I can honestly say that Alfred is one of the toughest people I have ever known, mostly because he is the only one who constantly puts up with my stubbornness. I could just be me, but you don't sound like you're dealing with your first customer too well. Something that turns away customers faster than throwing mannequin parts is an unhappy attitude. You could at least try to look like you're interested in what people have to say when they dump their problems on your counter. It could also be useful for gathering information, even if knowing that the evil ninja cat's name is Precious might seem useless at the time. You never know. Also, don't underestimate people's strength or intelligence by their appearance. Hippy might look harmless, but no limp noodle that I know of can carry an entire grandfather clock in a gym bag. Now, I'm not saying you shouldn't trust anyone (even though that's exactly what I'm saying) but it's obvious by now that the assassins are observing you. Do not overreact. Don't deny that you're not. Just try not to message me out in the open, and avoid talking to yourself like a crazy person if at all possible. Not that you're crazy. It's just a precaution. Oh, and start eating at the _soup_ kitchen unless you want me to send you a homemade b-day cake instead. Trust me, you would rather endure twenty ranting political hobos than eat anything I could bake.

Bruce👤

Dear (insert witty nickname here),

Oh, come on. Your cooking can't be THAT bad. Besides, you said not to trust anyone, which includes you, so I'll take my chances. And you know, I never would have told you about Hippy and how much she utterly annoys me if I had known you would make a life lesson out of it. But just so I don't wake up one morning dangling upside own from the Flagpole, I at least TRY to take your advice and look a little more alive next time I get a customer. But only a little. And hey, I'm not know to judge a book by it's cover (or a text by its writing style) so ninjas disguised as hobos beware! But seriously, am I the only one who finds it creepy that you somehow knew I would overreact when you told me I was being _observed_? Only a few messages ago were you saying that you didn't know me well enough to judge me accurately... so when did this happen? The world's greatest detective and the world's worst cook. You can't have it all, I guess. And I may or may not have *cough* fallen off the crate I was sitting on when you said I was being observed. I mean, I know I'm being _watched_... but _observed_? That takes this stalker thing to a whole new level. I'm gonna get myself a BB gun and shoot down that flagpole shadow the next time it moves for good measure. Or I could just find myself a real gun. It's not like it would hurt to have a little extra protection.

BJ🌙


	23. Chapter 23

Dear Jayden,

WARNING: The following paragraph contains intense lecturing and possibly another life lesson. Read at your own risk.

I'm only going to say this once, and I hope you take it seriously the first time so I don't have come over there and bat-glare you into agreement. Guns are for cowards. Their only purpose is to kill, and nothing more. Don't fool yourself into thinking that they "protect" in any way. I'm not saying that the police apply in this case, they are the exception, but you are to never use a gun unless in a life or death situation. And even then... find another way. Don't complain about how over-the-top I'm being, because I frankly don't care. Taking a life is no joke, you're smart enough to know that. And even though it might seem unfair that your assassins get away with almost killing you, that doesn't mean you have to be like them. Because you're not. I have gathered a lot about you and your personality just by these messages, and I know by now that you're reckless, stubborn, flippant, impulsive, and a complete smart ass. But you're also loyal, brave, intelligent, resilient, and even a little compassionate. You are what is known as a genius idiot. Emphases on the idiot part. Now, don't let any of this go to your head (even though I made sure to insult you enough to be angry at me for a week) and stay alert for enemies disguised as friends. I have no objection to you using other objects as weapons (preferably mannequin limbs) as a way to protect yourself. Just no guns. And yes, my cooking is THAT bad. I have Alfred to back me up on that.

Bruce🌙

Bruce,

Yeah, it's been a few days since I responded to That Message. But you can't really blame me for taking some time to think. Like, a LOT of time to think. I probably will be more guarded in my messages now (why I'm even bothering to bring that up is a mystery to me) so don't be surprised I stop joking around all together. I didn't get angry at anything you said in That Message, I was actually pretty calm reading it (which freaks me out now more than ever). But to tell you the truth... all you had to say was "don't use guns". That's all it would have taken to shut me up. It's embarrassing really, I don't remember when I started listening to everything you tell me to do, but apparently your opinion means a lot to me. Which is why you should be absolutely furious now. I'm struggling with whether or not I should tell you, my gut says that you'll chew me out so hard I'll end up hiding in a corner buried in mannequins (I guess my funny can't completely go away) and the hopeful side of me thinks you'll understand. But I never really listen to my hopeful side, so I'm leaning towards "will chew me out majorly". Just respond to this so I can message you directly without the painfully suspenseful wait between messages. And try not to sound too pissed, my old lady heart can't take that kind of stress.

Not-So-Funny BJ🌙


	24. Chapter 24

👤Do I even want to know what you did that would make you think I would get furious?

🌙Probably not.

👤Then it's a good thing it's not up to you.

🌙No seriously, we could just forget I ever mentioned doing something that completely disregards anything you ever told me not to do.

👤Alright, now I'm definitely not letting this drop.

🌙Mmmmmmm... but I don't want to get yelled at!

👤Then you shouldn't have brought it up in the first place.

🌙I can't help it!

👤Yes you can. It's called lying.

🌙Yeah, but lying to a hippy and lying to Batman are two totally different cases.

...

👤So you have been thinking differently.

🌙Of course I've been thinking differently! Who in their right mind would keep messaging YOU without making sure they didn't say something wrong? And lying is obviously not an option since you're "you know who" and not some complete stranger with no control over my situation.

...

👤I need to think about this.

🌙And I need to confess. Make up your mind.

👤So what _did_ you do?

🌙Okay, so you remember Moldy Harvey?

👤The cussing hobo?

🌙One of many, yes.

👤What about him?

🌙Well, I've seen him around these here parts many a time, and we kinda struck up a conversation. One that didn't just involve me getting flipped off.

👤And?

🌙AND he might have mentioned that he used to be a superhero. Well, more like a vigilante... and not the well-known kind either. No wonder, he curses every other sentence.

👤Jayden...

🌙Don't get mad just yet! I haven't even gotten to the infuriating part! So Moldy Harvey doesn't have any powers you see, but he's a kick ass martial artist I can tell you that.

👤Why do I have the feeling I know where this is going?

🌙Because you're Batman.

...

🌙Aaaaaanywho, have you noticed that if you take the name "Moldy Harvey" and replace the H and Y in Harvey with the M and L you get "Marvel"? I just noticed that actually.

👤Stay on topic.

🌙Right right. So he asked if I ever took karate or tae kwan doe, and I informed him that I have a black belt in "getting my tail kicked". He expressed his disgust at my poorly lacking skills with colorful language that would make my goldfish turn over in their graves. The only way he'd stop giving hobos a bad name is if I agreed to let him "tutor" me or something along those lines.

...

🌙The silence treatment kills, bro. And I am officially dying over here.

👤I specifically remember telling you NOT to let your guard down.

🌙Um... I feel like there should be an exclamation mark at the end of that sentence.

👤JAYDEN!

🌙NEVER MIND! Go back to being eerily calm!

👤How could you agree to something like that when I. Said. Not. To.

🌙Technically, you said not to trust anyone. And believe me, I don't trust Moldy Harvey any more than I trust his mental stability. He's not exactly the type of guy who you can say "no" to without getting a completely insane reaction. He has a knife, yo.

👤Then let me take care of him.

🌙NO! No way am I letting you get involved in this!

👤Why?

🌙I'm being observed. The last time you "helped" could have been easily written off as a coincidence. But if Batman showed up out of nowhere and took out ONE seemingly harmless hobo who just so happened to be bothering me... I can only wonder how stupid ninjas can be.

...

👤I'll stay away.

🌙Thank you!

👤But if that man does anything to you, all bets are off.

🌙Define "anything".

👤Tries to hurt you.

🌙Oh that's bound to happen. He is "training" me after all. Let's just go with "tries to kill me", alright?

👤Fine.

...

🌙Sooooo... you're not pissed?

👤Oh no, I am completely and utterly furious with you right now.

🌙Damn it. How is this my fault anyways?

👤You started the conversation with Moldy Harvey in the first place.

🌙Well, you told me to be friendlier with my customers!

👤I told you to "pretend" to care. And how is that guy a customer?

🌙He was a potential customer. I was being resourceful.

👤You were being stupid.

🌙Well sorr-ee, I'm not as perceptive as you!

👤How hard is it to notice when someone's COMPLETELY INSANE?

🌙How would I know! I've never looked in the mirror like you have!

👤Ouch.

🌙Don't care. I said it. No regrets.

👤I can't believe I actually called you intelligent once.

🌙I couldn't believe it either. I figured you'd rather hug Superman than give me a compliment.

👤Both are equally disturbing.

🌙Good to know.

...

👤You didn't start your last message with "dear".

🌙Ug, again with the perceptiveness! I just realized how totally stupid it is to start TEXT MESSAGES like you're writing a letter.

👤You started it.

🌙Well, now I'm regretting it.

👤It's kind of endearing actually.

🌙And by "endearing" you mean "cute". Which is why I hate you ihateyouihateyouihateyouihateyou!

[Batman is busy]

🌙I'm seriously considering emitting an electrical surge through this POT phone.

👤You can do that?

🌙Doing it know. I hope you wake up with a third degree headache.

[ERROR]

[connection disrupted]

[searching for signal]

[reestablishing link]

...

👤Ow.

🌙You didn't drop the phone?!

👤I didn't think you would go through with it. I've underestimated your ability to be stupid.

🌙Obviously. You should know by now that I'm a complete idiot.

👤I'll make sure to write it down.

🌙Good, because next time I'll be breaking into the batcave and kicking your bat butt with my new ninja skills.

👤It'll take a while before you can do either of those things. Close to impossible actually.

🌙I'm a fast learner. Plus, I have motivation.

👤Do tell.

🌙I need to get better than you so I can knock some ninja heads myself. That flagpole shadow is getting less and less worried about hiding itself.

👤How so?

🌙Well, now a days the ninja just sits up there staring at me. It's not completely obvious, but I've had tons of practice playing hide-and-seek with their ilk. I've always wanted to say that word.

👤Don't get cocky just because some second-rate former vigilante hobo promises to "train" you. We don't even know whether or not Moldy Harvey's any good.

🌙It just sounds like your jealous to me.

👤I'm Batman.

🌙Never mind.

👤How bold is the assassin being? Has it approached you?

🌙Nope, it just sits up there like a stone gargoyle. Maybe that's the only one? I haven't caught any other ninjas posing as architecture yet.

👤You can't be certain.

🌙I can't be certain about anything can I? And I think we've established by now that calling you (deleted for security reasons) is pointless since I've called you Batman many times without you correcting me. Plus, this is a secure line. Again. Pointless.

👤It's secure for me, but you could have easily shown anyone the messages on your POT phone, revealing my secret identity. Now that's less likely.

🌙Why? Because you trust me more?

👤Because I trust you at all. And that's saying something.

🌙I feel so special.

👤You should.

🌙Now you're pushing this whole "I'm Batman" thing. I will only take so much jerk from you, mister.

👤Or you'll do what?

🌙I'll shock your phone again.

...

👤You win.

🌙Ha ha! Victory is mine!

👤I assume you're back to being Funny BJ?

🌙Oh definitely! I don't know what came over me the past few days!

👤It must have been a phase.

...

🌙Oh. My. Gosh. I finally had a real one! This means I'm a normal teenager after all!

👤I wouldn't go that far.

🌙Hardy har har, Bats. You'll stop laughing when you wake up some day and realize that your whole vigilante career has all just been one very early very long mid-life crisis.

👤Says the teenager who gets excited over phases.

...

🌙We are so weird.

👤I second that.

🌙It's ironic that we started this conversation with an argument, and are ending it with an agreement.

👤Who says it's ending?

🌙Me.

👤Seriously?

🌙Like right now.

👤Not a chance.

🌙Why?

👤Because I have to get the last word in.

🌙That's so childish.

👤Says the child.

🌙Says pointy ears.

...

🌙I did not just say that.

👤I'm pretty sure you did.

🌙That's all for today folks! Come back next week: same bat time, same bat channel!

👤Does the mannequin factory have any high windows?

🌙Not that I know of... bye bye now!

...

👤I guess we'll find out.

🌙Shut up already! The conversation's over!

👤You know I won't stop until you stop.

🌙Fine! Does spam hack faster than hot dogs, or is it the other way around?

...

🌙Spoken like a true detective.

 **Review if you want. Read if you want. Favorite if you want. Follow if you want. Do whatever you want. Just don't tell Batman I write him with a sense of humor. Which he _totally_ has by the way.**


	25. Chapter 25

"Dear" Batman,

Not a word. Not. A. Word. Moving on, I decided to cut out the "electronics" in the electronics repairs sign below the POT Shop one because it's become obvious to me that my customers don't pay any attention to my specific skill set. I say this because I've gotten two more customers that have dropped off both a broken bike and hamster wheel. A hamster wheel. I can pretty much fix anything (call me a Jay of all trades) so it seems pointless to limit myself to only electronics. But a hamster wheel. I'm varying the prices to fit the repair jobs, but I think I've gotten pretty good at haggling the cost up. A hamster wheel I'm telling you! Maybe because I've had so much practice arguing with a certain Dark Knight. Why a hamster wheel? Okay, now I sound totally obsessed with the hamster wheel, but it's a HAMSTER WHEEL! I so need a therapist... or a baseball bat. *snicker* I wonder if you have a tool named the bat-baseball. You know, since you've named everything you own after yourself. Batmobile, batcave, batarang, bat-beacon, bat-grapple, Batgirl... forget that last one. Although I've got to admit, the batarang is pretty cool (don't tell Batman I said that though, I'm still making fun of his bat fetish😉). Anywho, Moldy Harvey hasn't threaten my life (more than usual at least) so don't come barging in with your bat-bat swinging just yet. The only "training" we've done so far are just strength and balance exercises. Like standing with one foot on a clothesline four stories up, and dreaded push-ups and sit-ups and chin-ups. Believe me, I'd rather be doing rooftop parkour than any of those last "up" exercises. The balance stuff is actually pretty fun. I get to walk on my hands from dangerous heights that would drive my dad absolutely crazy. Cody would just cheer me on and even join me if she was here. Moldy Harvey refuses to teach me anything punch-wise, or anything remotely like fighting. He said all of that wouldn't matter if I didn't do this other stuff first. It's exhausting though. I basically pass out at night for a few minutes after Harvey lets me go, then force myself awake again so I can work on the grandfather clock Hippy dumped on me. But who am I to complain. At least all this stuff keeps me distracted and away from doing anything stupid (besides training with a psychopath). I don't really feel different, but it's only been a few days so it's not like I was expecting to. But it's surprisingly enjoyable. The "training" part, not the "with a psychopath" part.

Padawan BJ🌙

Dear BJ,

The only time I ever named something starting with "bat" was Batman, all the other labels are my sidekicks' faults. And no, I do not have a bat-baseball and a bat-bat. That would be ridiculous. I was going to mention something before about a grandfather clock not fitting into the electronic repairs category, but it seems like you've figured that out already. I don't see what's so unnerving about a hamster wheel, though. It's just a hamster wheel. But I can't stress enough that you shouldn't work yourself too hard. At any moment you might be forced to run for your life if the assassins decide to test you. I say run because I forbid you to fight. You might think that's not up to me, but you've said it yourself that you can't beat these ninjas. That aside, I can only sit here frowning as I read all the training exercises Moldy Harvey is having you do. I have no problems with push-ups and the like... but believe it or not, hearing that you're doing all these other things from extreme heights is a little unnerving. And by a little, I mean a lot. Don't let that maniac push you into doing things you're even the slightest bit apprehensive about. I could always find a bat-bat lying around here somewhere.

Bruce👤


	26. Chapter 26

Dear Worrywart,

Don't be so nervous, I haven't done anything extremely dangerous... that I don't have fun doing. It's the normal exercises that are a pain. I have no intension of getting a six-pack, so I don't know why all these push-ups are necessary! Can't I just stick to building-jumping and tightrope walking? At least those give me a danger thrill. I probably sound insane now that I realize how much fun it is to almost die. Wait... that didn't come out right. I mean it's fun to do stuff that makes you feel alive. Yeah, that's better. Since pyromaniacs set stuff on fire for the same reason, does that make us related? Maybe there's a scientific word for "tendency to do stupid things to feel alive". But since asking Wikipedia is obviously out of the question (why have to forsaken me WiFi?!) I'll just have to settle searching for it in this abandoned library I found. If you haven't noticed, pretty much everything around here is abandoned or demolished, which I'm blaming Superman for. You really need to create a giant kryptonite flyswatter for that guy. Anywho, I found the library when I was adventuring around the mannequin factory. Turns out, the suspiciously large piping system connects right underneath the library. I dare you to Google what the inside of a mannequin factory looks like, then you'll realize why I'm so anxious to hang out elsewhere. But this dusty old bookworm's paradise is the best birthday present I could ever ask for! Now I don't have to go through the pain of feeling dumber each day. There's a whole section on the human behavior and I even see a few psychology books I'm pretty sure I saw Cody read once or twice. I've only read a few pages of each, but I'm starting to get pretty interested in the whole "understanding the human mind" thing. Finally! A hobby that doesn't involve near-death experiences. I found a few comics in here too! There's this one old-timey Batman comic that just cracks me up whenever I read it. The dialogue is so cheesy and unrealistic that I can't help but roll on the ground laughing! Let me read off some of it to you:

Batman: Stop right there, fiend!

Crook: Not on your life, Batman! These jewels are mine for the taking!

Batman: Not if I have anything to say about it you evildoer!

WHAM!

POW!

CLONK!

Crook: Noooo! It's impossible! I've never been defeated by any man before!

Batman: That is because I am not just a man... I am the Batman.

O my gosh, this is making me laugh just by writing it! And to think, this is how your fan-base sees you! I'm sorry, I just can't take this much happiness! I'm still laughing if you were wondering. Crying now. Okay, I'm going to leave you so I can finish reading this *snicker* comic book. Don't be too depressed that I find so much joy in making fun of you. But I really do.

Crook BJ🌙

Dear Idiot,

I can't even bring myself to message you right now after the realization that you are a complete and total numbskull (he says trying desperately not to use less flattering language). How can I express how annoyed with you I am without sounding like I'm offended at That Comic. Which I am totally not. Not even a little bit. I give you permission to burn That Comic if you ever feel the need to give in to your crazy urges. But seriously... burn it. Burn it now. On a different subject, I do realize that a lot of the damage done to the area you're in is caused by certain careless aliens taking their fights into MY city. With that in mind, I will put "giant kryptonite flyswatter" on my bucket list. I do, in fact, know what the inside of a mannequin factory looks like, and I'm surprised you even decided to stay at a place that should give any kid nightmares. Superman himself would have trouble camping out among the bodiless heads and headless bodies. Oh, and the scientific word for "tendency to stupid things to feel alive" is IDIOT. Enough said.

The REAL Batman👤

 **A/n: Sup guys! It's my sixteenth birthday (YAY!) so I decided to give all of you a little present too. I didn't write Batman's response to Jayden's declaration that he's interested in the human psych because Batman is brooding about it. Because dats what dem Bats do. Whatever he say's (or doesn't say) has meaning, so you've gotta pay more attention, yo! Anywho, (notice that B-Jay says it all the time too?) keep reading 'cause there's much more action and excitement to come. Who knows just how deeply the two's destinies are intertwined (I do!).**


	27. Chapter 27

Dear "the Batman",

I'm taking a picture with my POT phone of That Comic so I can search up the rest of its kind when I move on to bigger and better things... like a hotel with free WiFi. I can't find any more Batman comics like this one (unfortunately) so I'll have to stick with reading the psychology books in my free time. I don't think the invisible librarian minds that I'm "borrowing with no intention of returning" all these reads. But if she does have a problem with it, then she can take it to my secretary. Oh yeah, did I mention that I have a secretary now? He's pretty quiet most days, probably because he spends most of it napping. The parts of the day when he's awake he enjoys being a total pain. Whenever he does decide to talk to me, it usually involves a whole lot of growling and hissing. Yup, my secretary is a cat. I named him Knight because he's all black and has this grouchy personality. Plus, he's always angry at me. Does that remind you of anyone? If not, read over all your past messages and get back to me. Even though Knight is in all definition a "spiteful cat", he makes for good company when all you have to talk to is a factory full of mannequins and a crazy retired vigilante. At least he doesn't stare at me with his soulless plastic eyes... yikes. Anywho, I have no intension of burning That Comic, so get off my back. It's a perfectly good piece of literature... hold on a sec-

[Blackjay is busy]

Sorry, I just couldn't keep a strait face while texting that. I'm so loving misguided comic book authors right now. If I ever run into the dialogue writer, I'm gonna ask him to sign my copy.

Avid Fan🌙

Dear BJ,

I still don't see what's so amusing about some half-baked excuse for a comic book based off my character... a very poorly scripted character at that. Who even talks like that anymore? I definitely don't, maybe Alfred though. But he's British, so that just makes it even more ridiculous for me to talk like that. Just forget it, this doesn't even deserve my attention. And if you had forgotten, my name's Batman... not Catman. I'm not angry at you all the time (just slightly annoyed) and unlike cats, I don't spitefully shed on pop tarts. Wow, that sounded much different written down than I thought it would. Why did I even say that? Changing the subject, if I had any control of my fan club, then I would kick you out. Literally. I don't care how much you greatly dislike Superman, no one laughs at me and gets away with it. Well... most of the time. *Sigh* Lets get back to the grim reality for a moment. I don't like that the ninjas are backing off all of a sudden. Letting them observe you for their own agenda doesn't sit right either. Even though they haven't seriously injured you yet... we need to remember that they killed your family. I doubt they'd treat you differently. So let me interrogate the assassin posing as a gargoyle. I know it'll go against my word to stay away, but just sitting back and letting you deal with this on your own isn't going to work for me. I've tried getting in touch with people I thought were involved, but they've completely disappeared off the face of the earth. All leads to your past disappeared with them. I need information from a more direct approach, like directly punching ninja face. So let me help you just this once.

Batman👤


	28. Chapter 28

Dear Catman,

Listen guy, I'm not letting you beat up the gargoyle ninja. Now, before you jump in your Batmobile and b-line here against my wishes, I have a reason. A reason that doesn't just involve my stubborn personality. Sure, you could try to beat the crap out of a freakishly loyal assassin and HOPE he/she spills the beans... or you could just be patient and wait for him/her to tell me themselves. What am I implying exactly? Well, I'm saying that the ninja could very well approach me soon. Gargoyle ninja isn't even trying to be inconspicuous, and has caught me staring way too many times to be by accident. Someone trying to kill me wouldn't let me see them. Especially if that someone is classified as a ninja. So just be patient (not matter how against your character it is) and let nature run its course. Besides, I'm picking up all this stuff Moldy Harvey's been teaching me real quick. He's actually started training me in some basic fighting stances and moves. Which is a relief, since I thought I'd be stuck on push-ups for my whole life. Harvey said I'm a genius, but coming from a lunatic that isn't really reassuring. Knight doesn't like Moldy H that much though, which is no surprise since the cat has your personality. He even tried to scratch out the old man's eyes once or twice. I had to lock my secretary in the closet for unacceptable work behavior. Maybe I should listen to Knight more often, since cats are supposed to sense things that humans can't. Except, the black cat also freaks out whenever a mannequin falls over, so I'm not putting too much faith in his kitty-senses. I'm wounded that you would even consider kicking out your biggest fan! And hey, if Joker can get away with laughing at you, then I don't think I should have any problem either. I'm way saner than him too. But who cares, it's not like it's a competition or anything (totally is). Oh, and I can so see you as the type to rock a British accent. It would scare the Irish crooks half to death.

BJ🌙

Dear Jayden,

I see what you're saying about letting the assassin come to you, and although it's difficult to admit, I have to agree. There's a better chance of getting more information if it's given willingly. And if that doesn't work, well, there's always my way. This doesn't mean I feel any less obligated to do something, so I'll keep searching for my contact. That aside, if Knight tells you something's wrong with Moldy Harvey, then you'd better listen. Cats do sense things that humans can't, so don't completely ignore your secretary. And don't let your guard down around that man either. He might be a hobo now, but he was still once considered a "vigilante" of some kind. No idiot can call themselves that and survive. And PLEASE don't compete with the Joker on who can laugh at me the most and get away with it. It's annoying enough with one psychopath's hysterics seared in my mind.

The Dark Knight👤

 **A/n: If you hadn't noticed, I've been trying to make the messages longer. Except I haven't. You see, 95% of this story is freehand writing, the other 5% percent is the tiny bit of plot woven into it. Most of the time, I have no idea what I'm going to write down, but once I start, it all just appears on the page. So even I get surprised and get to laugh at unexpected things that happen. That's probably why I enjoy writing these so much. Because I'm just as clueless about what's going to happen as you! But rest assured, there IS a plot here… somewhere. It becomes more and more clear to me as I keep writing, so reviews would be a good boost. And believe it or not, small things each character says are more important than you'd expect, even if they are said in a joking manner. Even though I said that before… I'm just being a control freak now. So anywho, enjoy reading my fanfic!**


	29. Chapter 29

Dear Bats,

Now that I can call you by your codename without risking a secret identity crisis, I have WAY more nickname options at my disposal. But I'm relieved you're going to listen to me for once and not beat up my perching gargoyle stalker. Which eerily sounds like something you would say... eh, who cares. I've been reading a lot of these books on human behavior (which I may or may not have stolen), and I found some pretty interesting stuff on indirect conversations. Did you know that people tend to open up more when texting than in face-to-face conversations? For example, a super shy person or an introvert could be the most outgoing person you've ever met... as long as it's not in person. Except I'm just as bubbly and sarcastic (and annoying) in person as in my messages, so sorry about that. It has something to do with confidence, and it sometimes makes people say things they might have never dreamed of saying in reality. I used to have this friend (Quincy) who had the personality of a wound up Chihuahua. But whenever we'd text each other, he had grammar and imagination of a three-year-old. The messages were either "yup" "sure" and "k". As you can imagine, I did most of the talking. Apparently, people are more careless in their indirect conversations, so they let things slip about themselves from time to time. Which got me thinking. If that's true about texting, then surely the same goes for talking. I'm gonna test it out with Moldy Harvey, see if I can get him to tell me anything more about his "hero" career. And if all goes well... I could even try striking up a conversation with a certain gargoyle. But anywho, that's just a side note. The real question is whether or not you (Batman) would have said some of the things you've said to me if we were talking in person. I'm guessing no. But in order for a stubborn 15-year-old little boy to listen your advice and not get himself killed, I guess you had to sacrifice a little of your strong and silent attitude. Cause I bet answering with "yup" "sure" and "k" wouldn't really have made an impact on my decisions. And then there's the matter of trust... but I'm not gonna get to deep into all this psychology stuff. Sometimes a word is a word. And sometimes it's not. But who am I to decipher it? All this reading is turning me into a total nerd. I swear, at one point I started taking notes. What kind of normal teenager does that?! Answer: They don't.

Total Nerd🌙

Dear BJ,

When you're secretly trying to get information out of someone, it takes a lot more than being friendly and hoping the other will open up. You need to be very careful when you're approaching Moldy Harvey with any subject, especially his former "vigilante" life. He could very well react in a completely insane way. I'm betting on it actually. So. Be. Cautious. And don't approach the assassin on a whim. Just don't. The last thing I need is to get alerted one night that you've gotten yourself killed because you accidentally called it "gargoyle" instead of "ninja". You don't have the best filter when it comes to speaking your mind. And I do know of people who have more confidence behind the safety of a device, it's pretty common actually. It's a shame you're just as annoy-cough-energetic in real life though. I was hoping you were secretly a quiet person. Oh well. One can always dream. I have noticed that you constantly refer to yourself and a "little" boy. Either your just digging your own midget grave, or you honesty still think you're younger than you actually are. And THAT is an example of reading people over text messages. I will take your applause now. But seriously, don't try to see motives that aren't there. I talk to you like this because I _want_ to, not because I'm trying to avoid stepping on a landmine. You don't seem like the kind of person to be offended easily (thank God) so I don't have to be as guarded with "hurting your feelings". But just so we're clear, if I was ever seen with you, I would deny ever knowing you.

Bruce👤


	30. Chapter 30

Dear Complete Stranger,

I get it. Why would a killjoy like yourself ever be seen with hilarious person like me? It just doesn't happen, right? Not like you've had past sidekicks with such personalities or anything. Hint hint. That being said, I've never really gotten why people have sidekicks. I'd figure you'd either want to work solo or with a team, and that newbies wouldn't want a more experienced heroes babysitting them 24/7. I couldn't stand the thought of being looked down on (shortness aside) just cause I'm backup. And about my calling myself "little" all the time... sure, maybe I do consider myself pretty young even though I'm fifteen. I mean, there's so much I don't know! And I'm not talking about basic knowledge, I'm talking about maturity in general. Yes, I just called myself immature. I thought we already established that. But I honestly feel like a 10-year-old at heart, you know, except without the innocence. Wait... now I get why people have sidekicks! It's less for the experienced one and more for the newbie isn't it? A whole new part of my brain just opened up. I'm gonna leave you to go explore it now... so buh-bye.

Dat BJ DJ Doe🌙

Dear Jayden,

I have no idea why you called yourself a DJ in your last signature. Oh wait, yes I do, it's because you're an idiot. You should sign your messages with that instead. I also don't know why you're thinking about sidekicks all of a sudden... I'm starting to wonder whether it's something to be worried about. You do understand that Moldy Harvey is a _retired_ vigilante, right? Don't let him encourage you into beating up criminals for a living, like _at all_. Be a DJ for all I care... just not a Moldy Harvey protégé. The world only needs one of those. And I said I would deny ever knowing you as a joke. I am never repeating those last three words again. To anyone. Anyways (you see how I used "ways" instead of "who"? It's called grammar) it's interesting that you still feel young after finding out that you're actually fifteen, but thirteen doesn't seem like that young of an age either. I would assume that your "immaturity" has something to do with the amnesia, but usually amnesia has much different side effects than he ones you're experiencing... so I'm starting to consider brainwash as a possibility. Again, don't overreact. Or fall off a crate. At this point anything is a possibility. Now, if you would let me come near you for a change, I could probably take some blood samples and run some tests to get a better grasp on what we're dealing with here. But since you've made it oh so clear that you don't want ANY physical help WHATSOEVER... that makes it impossible. Did you know that there is absolutely no health records on you or your family? What? Did you people just refuse help from doctors too? Maybe the stubborn streak runs in the family.

Not A Sidekick👤


	31. Chapter 31

Dear Idiot,

Thanks for the signature suggestion, but I think it suites you much better. AnyWHO, I'm feeling rebellious again. It just anoder one a dem BJ DJ phases yo! Buh bye grammah and 'ello good ol' fashen 'merica speak! Wait... awww, the phase is over! Damn my over-intelligent mind for rejecting all forms of teenage angst! And what did you mean before about getting an "alert" if I get keyholed by the gargoyle ninja? *gasp* You have cameras planted in the factory don't you! That's it! I'm doing a thorough sweep of every cobwebby corner and mannequin armpit. Oh, and if you're wondering why I said "keyholed" up there instead of killed, that's because Moldy Harvey has this weird hobo accent/slur, so when he said "keeled" instead of killed I misheard him as "keyholed". My life is so complicated it's not even funny. But anyWHO, you don't have to worry about me becoming Moldy Harvey's *shudder* sidekick. Or anyone's sidekick for that matter. If I ever do manage to survive my repairs business, I'm becoming a solo hero. Just kidding! Or am I? Ug, all these psycho whatever books are getting to my head. Which is why I'm moving on the science fiction novels. Except the only ones I could find had hug-muffin plot lines, and were riddled with clichés. Translation from nerd speak: They sucked. So I'm now back to the mental sciences. Which is British speak for: a load of crazy. I'm pretty sure half the population of America didn't know that "mental" meant "crazy" for British folk until the Harry Potter movies came out. I say movies cause I never bothered to read the books. I'm such a traitor to nerds everywhere. Moving on, my family didn't have health records because my mom was "technically" our personal doctor. She had a very wide range of scientific knowledge if you can imagine. Plus, dad thought it was safer to keep all of us off the grid as much as possible because of his morally questionable choice in careers. Which also meant no social media of any kind. Hell on earth I tell ya. But we respected his decision (mostly) and avoided posting our faces Snapchat. So I had to make friends the old fashion way... by beating up the helpless kid's bullies and befriending the poor sap out of pity. No wait. I was the poor sap in that case. Meh, let's not pay attention to the details shall we? On a different note, what does taking blood samples have to do with confirming amnesia (or brainwash)? Oh, and his time it did NOT fall off a crate thank you very much... I fell off a roof. Relax, it was all part of Moldy Harvey's training. Well, not the "falling of the roof" part... but you get the idea. All's good though, it was only two stories up and I needed the landing practice anyways. All fours like a cat. Gotta remember that next time.

Not-So-Rebellious BJ🌙

Dear Idiot,

I don't care if you already used it, idiot will always be YOUR name. Why? Because you don't land from jumping off a two story building on all fours like a cat... you roll on the ground like a dog. Even Catwoman knows that. But I'm guessing Moldy Harvey didn't even teach you how to break your fall yet, so I'm just going to chalk it up to ignorance this time. Although I'm starting to wonder what else that hobo antihero isn't teaching you. Definitely not grammar. How does "killed" sound anything close to "keyholed"? And why would Moldy Harvey say "killed" anyways? You know, besides when lecturing you on how your recklessness will get you killed someday. Oh. That's why. Anyways, I was beginning to wonder if you've noticed that you talk a lot. And not just for a text message... I mean a LOT. No wonder we have to cut our speaking roles into back and forth messages, otherwise I would never stand a chance. But what I _did_ manage to pick out from all that random nonsense, was your implication to become a crime fighter. The bat-glare usually ends these arguments pretty quickly, but since that's currently not possible, I'm forced to use the power of persuasion. Don't. You. Dare. Since you mentioned before that it only takes three words to convince you, I'll leave it at that. Maybe you should focus on more important aspects of your life... like your questionable friend-making skills. Your technique definitely needs some work.

Bruce👤


	32. Chapter 32

Dear "The REAL Idiot",

I'm just reading over your last text, all the while thinking, "Wow. Batman's got a real grudge on Moldy Harvey." So what's up, b-man? Did he sneeze on your Cheerios or something? *gasp* Did he sneeze on Alfred's Cheerios? That explains it! Look at me being all detective-like and such! Maybe I should change careers. Blackjay's Detective Agency. Nah, I'll just stick to miscellaneous repairs and my vigilante dreams. Which are JUST dreams by the way. The persuasion worked. Except... technically you used four words. "Don't" is a contraction. Ha, roasted. That's two laughs for BJ, three hundred and seventy-eight laughs for Joker. I have a long way to go. Oh, and don't take this as a hint that I'm gonna grow up to be a supervillain... somehow running around in green and purple spandex with an umbrella doesn't really appeal to me. Anywho, you're the last person who should be telling me how to make friends. I for one actually have them. Ha, roasted again. At some point my conscience is going to wake up and I'm going to realize what a jerk I've been to you... but until that happens, your at my mercy. Wow. I do kinda sound like a supervillain now. Let's change the topic shall we? Ah yes, friends. They are a very rare thing when loyalty is involved... but I did actually have one super close one before all of THIS happened. You know, besides Cody. It was that kid Quincy I mentioned before. The one who *cough* helped me in my times of need. And by help, I mean beat the living hug-muffins out of my oppressors. I'm a short kid. Nuff said. And apparently, that's enough of a reason for the bullies too. Quincy wasn't strong or big, but he was a human fox. Which meant he could outwit circles around muffin-huggers like the one's hate'n on me. So the catbird and the fox got along pretty well if you can imagine (a rough analogy of me and Quincy). He probably freaked out when he read the news article on how I keyholed my family. But it's not like I could go back and fix everything, even if I wanted to. We're in completely different worlds now. Plus, the missing year doesn't help. Subject change again: Thank you, Captain Obvious, for pointing out what a complete chatter box I am. Yes, I do in fact realize that I talk a LOT. Get over the reality that some of us were born extroverts. Not that there's anything wrong with introverts... it turns out some of those kind of people have a crazy amount of confidence in themselves. What an insecure little lad am I.

Maybe Supervillain BJ🌙

Dear Not A Supervillain BJ,

How many times do I have to tell you: Do not joke about becoming crazy and/or evil! (Notice the lack of contraction there?) It's never going to happen... so give it up. If you don't, I could very easily take measures to ensure that you don't have the opportunity. On a lighter note, I do have friends. I mean... there's always Alfred. And Ace. And Alfred. Alright, so maybe Ace is a dog, but that's one more friend than you have (since when did this become a competition anyways?). Ahem, moving on... what could possibly lead you to believe that I hold any anger against Moldy Harvey? It's not like he's a second-rate scum of the earth excuse for a retired vigilante *cough* I mean... a respectable person. Whom I have NEVER met during his golden years by the way, though they might be considered more of a moldy greenish-yellow color. But aside from that, I found what you said about an introvert's confidence rather interesting. What brought you to that deduction (a completely non-detective related deduction)? I also find it interesting that you referred yourself as a, uh, "catbird". You do realize that those aren't simply cats that hunt birds (similar to a bird-dog) but actually a member of the mockingbird family that's call sounds like a cat. Yeah... two completely different things.

Still Smarter Than You👤

 **A/n: Whoops. Looks like I wrote a few too many chapters into this new update. But it's not like you guys are complaining, right? I have noticed that Jayden likes to ramble a lot (maybe because we share a few things in common) but that's what makes his character to enjoyable to write. I probably should have done the "Happy 30** **th** **Chapter" thing two chapters ago… but I'm lazy, so I'm doing it now. YAY! Please review your thoughts on the story (even though I love writing it too much to give up now) cause the encouragement does wonders for the author's soul. Batman has a sense of humor. Don't deny it peeps!**


	33. Chapter 33

Dear Not Smarter Than Robin,

Don't act all high and mighty just because you've got access to WiFi and I'm still stuck in the Great Depression. How was I supposed to know a catbird was a kind of mockingbird? And FYI, I called myself a catbird because BJ (BlackJay) is a mix between my cat's name and part of my name (which just so happens to be a bird). And to think, an entire conversation came out of one ridiculous misunderstanding such as this. We really are taking intelligent banter to a whole new level. And when you said before that you would "take measures to ensure that I don't have the opportunity" to become a supervillain, you meant sending me candy-grams to keep my spirits up, right? I mean, what _else_ could the grim and gritty Batman of a crime infested Gotham City possibly be implying with that suspiciously dark-sounding suggestion? Not a free and permanent tour of famous landmarks, that's for sure. Anywho, I've been searching the mannequin factory for any sign of your little camera or bug buddies, and I guess all those years of Easter egg hunting have payed off! I found a total of six cameras (one in the eye of a mannequin head. How creative of you) and three bugs. The listening devices were way harder to find since they're smaller and don't have a shiny camera lens to give them away. Don't worry, I won't get rid of the ones I found, but now I know where the blinds spots are in case I feel the need to breakdance... or do business completely unrelated to repairs. Subject change: Pets don't count as friends. If they did, I would have added Knight to my list. But since it's obvious that you don't have very many options... I'll let you have this one. To answer your question about my completely detective related deduction about introverts, my sister fits into the category of the strong and silent type. Well, she's not quiet ALL the time, just whenever we're not in the house. You see, a lot of people who would have just met her would have written her off as shy, sense she doesn't exactly talk over people like I tend to do. It's all part of her "getting to know you" routine. She observes how strangers react when certain subjects get brought up, and then evaluates their personalities based off of that information. Or in other words... whether or not they're trustworthy. You see, a lot of kids we used to run into on the street had the potential to be dangerous to our family, since Dad's involvement in the weapons dealing business would be pretty obvious if anyone were to walk in the house. And then there were kids like Quincy who knew how to keep a secret. So basically, Cody was just looking out for the family. But a lot of people didn't know that, and they'd wrongfully misjudge her. There were a lot of jerks in our neighborhood who thought Cody was meek, and they'd constantly try to mess with her because they thought they could get away with it. Oh how wrong they were. My sister might be super smart, but she's no coward. Plus, she has this nasty little temper that comes out to play every once and awhile. Eventually, she broke enough noses to spread enough rumors to send the message that Cody didn't take crap from nobody. She also had the growing reputation to prank people. Nuff said. Hence, why I believe introverts are some of the bravest people on planet earth. Of course, not everyone is like Cody (she's definitely one of a kind) so maybe I should say that Cody is the bravest person on planet earth. Was. Was the bravest. Nope, I'm not crying damn it. You can't prove it. I'm in your camera's blind spot.

Catbird🌙

Dear BJ,

Jayden... I only had three cameras planted in that factory before you made it your temporary home, and I never used any listening devices. The ones you found aren't mine. I suggest you destroy any cameras or bugs that don't have a bat emblem on them. The others are probably from the assassins, but don't think they'll suspect your removal of them, and just believe you're being paranoid. But not paranoid enough to fall off crate, roof, or anything else of considerable height. I'm starting to notice it's a recurring pattern for you. And just so there's not ANOTHER misunderstanding, I wasn't threatening to lock you up in Arkam Asylum so you don't have the chance to become evil. That would only make things worse. I was just furthering my point on the bat-glare's power of persuasion, although I doubt you're very convinced since you've never been on the receiving end of it. If you keep up this stubborn "stay away" attitude, you might just make it through your life without the experience. But you can't hide forever.

Batman👤

* * *

Real Life—Location: The Batcave

Bruce Wayne tapped the send button for his message to a certain hyperactive 15-year-old, and leaned back into his chair with a sigh. The kid was starting to become more at ease about his situation with the assassins. He had even gone as far as to uncover some of their bugs and cameras (along with a few of his own). Bruce had almost choked when BJ suggested approaching the gargoyle ninja and striking up a friendly conversation.

 _His ignorance has no bounds._

Batman's eyes drifted to the boy's last message, catching on the words "Dear Not Smarter Than Robin". His mouth twitched for a split second, before reverting back to the stone cold expression. The Dark Knight returned to scanning the text to see if had missed anything before. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary (just the usual nonsense) but for some odd reason, he always got stuck on the word "Dad". Like it was the one anomaly in Jayden's entire conversation. Something wasn't right. Batman rose abruptly from his seat and grabbed his cape and cowl. He didn't care if Talia refused to meet with him, Batman was going to get answers. And no one was going to stop him.

 **A/n: Dun dun DA! Plot twist! I'm so jittery right now it's not even funny! Why do I get excited by my own plot twist anyways? Maybe because I just as surprised as you are. And don't assume CERTAIN things about this CERTAIN situation. Not everyone uses THAT plot line... but it's not completely impossible. Anywho, I thought I'd change things up a little and give you a little taste of life behind the text. I may or may not do one for Jayden too... it depends. I should probably stop it with the author's notes though, this is a FANfiction after all!**


	34. Chapter 34

🌙Hey Bats! You are not going to believe what happened this morning!

👤Let me guess... it involved getting hit by a car.

🌙Okay smart ass, not everything I do ends up with me getting hurt.

👤Just most of the time.

🌙Yeah yeah, whatever. Not everyone can beat up twenty muffin-huggers without breaking a sweat.

👤Just everyone but you.

🌙Shut up! As I as saying... this morning I was opening the POT shop for the day, when I found the coolest little gizmo waiting for me.

👤What do you mean?

🌙Well, there's was a note attached to it that said it needed to be fixed, and that the owner would pay a muffin load for it. Literally, I'm getting payed in muffins.

👤What does it look like?

🌙Well, it's kinda hard to describe, but it's like a little metal cylinder with a whole bunch of wires and circuits inside (which is my kind of repair job). It might be some kind of miniature projector? A weapon? Oooooo... maybe it's a lightsaber!

👤That sounds like some pretty complicated and expensive technology for someone to just drop it off at a place like yours.

🌙I'm just going to ignore the fact that you just insulted my POT shop.

👤The name insults itself.

🌙Touché.

👤Are you sure you don't recognize the handwriting from anywhere?

🌙Why would I? It's not like I make a habit of walking up to complete strangers and asking them for their autographs. Moldy Harvey maybe, but that's a big maybe. Now that you mention it, the handwriting does kinda look familiar... but I can't place it.

👤You do remember that you have other projects, right? Or have you forgotten about them already?

🌙Hush you. I'm not so irresponsible as to abandon my loyal customers. I finished the bike yesterday and the _hamster wheel_ a while ago. A hamster wheel. I pray it never returns.

👤I'm not even going to try to understand.

🌙That would be wise.

👤How's the grandfather clock coming along?

🌙You know, I'd like to say it's going chipper-de-doo-da-day... but it's more like poopy-de-poo-di-doo.

👤...

🌙Too much?

👤When is it not?

[Blackjay is busy]

👤Are you seriously laughing at yourself?

🌙I'm sorry! I'm just can't take this much-

[Blackjay is busy]

👤What did I do to deserve this?

🌙You were dumb enough to answer.

👤True.

🌙Ahem, the grandfather clock. Yeah, turns out clockwork is pretty close to rocket science. But thank the bookworms I have an entire library of super boring titles like "How to Get Your Hand Unstuck From a Gumball Machine". I really needed that book three years ago during a trip to the mall. Turns out jiggling the handle works better than kicking the life out of it. Whoops.

👤I'm starting to wonder if I should just let you do all the talking from now on... because I have no idea how to respond to that.

🌙Just change the subject or call me an idiot. It's worked so far.

👤Fine. You're an idiot. Now about Moldy Harvey...

🌙Nope! We're not talking about him?

👤Why not?

🌙Because I'm going through another phase which involves me lashing out on my mentor and becoming independent.

👤Jayden... what did you do?

🌙What did I do?! More like what did I NOT do?! I am so sick of Harvey's cussing and yelling and CUSSING! Did I mention cussing? Oh, and then there's the cussing...

👤I get it, Moldy Harvey's not exactly the best role model.

🌙"Not the best" is putting it mildly. Very mildly. I mean, I swear I hear him talking to himself sometimes! Plus, I am the best protégé a dumpster-diving fleabag like him could ever hope for! I pay attention whether he believes it or not.

👤Do you take notes?

🌙I feel like that's a loaded question.

👤That's because I know the answer.

🌙Screw. You. Batman. You and your little cameras too!

👤Did you ever take down the ninja's cameras?

🌙You bet! Along with two of yours.

👤I noticed.

🌙I say two because I couldn't find the third one.

👤I know.

🌙You know absolutely everything don't you? Oooo! Do you know what I had for breakfast?

👤Frosted Flakes.

🌙Dang, you're good. And don't say "I know" or I'll shock your phone again.

👤I've taken precautions so that doesn't happen again.

🌙Reeeeeeeally? You wanna test it out?

👤No.

🌙Didn't think so. Anywho, this whole "independent" thing is starting to get boring, so I'll probably be back to Moldy Harvey's grueling routine by the end of the day. I could never keep a phase anyways.

👤No one's forcing you to train with him you know.

🌙Yeah, I know. But it keeps me distracted and away from the path of speeding cars. Plus, it's given Harv a new meaning in life. He can cuss with purpose now.

👤Idiot.

🌙See! Doesn't that make you feel better?

👤You have no idea.

🌙Sooooo... have you found anything interesting about me or my past that you'd care to share?

👤Why do you ask?

🌙Well, you're Batman. I think that's pretty self explanatory.

👤Explain it to me anyways.

🌙Gosh, you're really gonna be that way aren't you? Come on, you have to know _something_ about what's going on! You and the ninjas practically go to the same Goth kid conventions.

👤I have my suspicions.

🌙So tell me.

👤You wouldn't understand.

🌙Then make me understand!

💋Come now, beloved. You're honestly not going to keep this up forever, are you?

🌙Whoa. Who's the newbie?

👤How did you get this number?

💋I have my ways.

🌙Creepy.

👤Leave. Now.

💋I'm sorry, but no. I am very curious to see how this conversation continues, so I think I'll stay awhile.

🌙Girlfriend maybe? If that's the case, then this is going to be fun for me and torture for you.

💋Are you going to be doing that the whole time?

🌙What?

💋Making foolish jokes?

🌙Uh, pretty much, lady. It's kind my thing.

💋No wonder you were such a disappointment.

👤Why don't both of you leave. Then I'll be able rest in peace.

🌙Not a chance! Plus, I think this lady doesn't like me... and I enjoy annoying people who don't like me.

💋And I enjoy killing people who I don't like.

🌙Yikes.

👤Talia. This is your last warning.

🌙Oooo! Someone's in trouble!

💋Quite child. If you weren't of interest I would have disposed of you by now.

🌙And if you weren't of interest, I wouldn't be trying so hard to annoy you. So feel special, ya salty beach.

👤Jayden...

🌙What! She is!

💋Still immature as ever I see.

👤Quiet beach.

[Blackjay is busy]

💋What is that supposed to mean?

👤You wouldn't know.

🌙Wow. I'm having such a great day. First the cylinder surprise, then Batman turning over a new leaf with his girlfriend...

💋You liked the gift?

🌙Yeah! Who wouldn't love a mess of jacked up tech first thing in the morning? (He says sarcastically)

💋Admit it. It intrigues you.

🌙Okay, fine. So maybe I got a little exited. You have fine taste in techno trash. You won't by any chance mind telling me what it is?

💋No. Fix it and you will find out.

🌙Drat. I was kinda hoping it was a lightsaber.

💋That could be arranged.

👤Stop giving him ideas.

💋Why not? I don't see you doing anything?

👤How can I when you refuse to answer my questions?

💋Well I am here now. Ask all you wish.

👤You know I can't do that.

🌙I'm feeling like he third wheel on a super awkward date: Roll'n along with the bumps.

💋You could always try being the silent third wheel.

🌙Nah. That takes all the fun out of dragging you two down.

💋How poetic of you.

🌙*bows* Why thank you, fair lady.

💋You are somewhat charming from an odd angle.

🌙I'm all odd angles. It's just how I do.

💋Bruce, you should know that this was all Father's doing.

👤How? He's supposed to be dead.

💋Unfortunately, his will still lives on in the League.

🌙So you two lovebirds met at a baseball game? Let me guess... Brucey was the _bat_ ter.

👤Talia, we're finishing this conversation later.

💋I never knew it started, beloved.

🌙I thought it'd never end.

💋And now you are back to being troublesome.

🌙Did nobody give this lady the pamphlet?

👤She's gone now.

🌙Really? How?

👤I blocked her.

🌙Oh. Where was that helpful little button a few minutes ago when she was threatening my life?

👤Behind thirteen layers of code.

🌙Nice! Somebody's got skills!

👤I thought you said you didn't like her.

🌙Nuh uh! I said I like annoying people who don't like me. There's a difference.

👤Sure there is.

🌙So... is she seriously your girlfriend? Cause I don't really see a whole lot a love between you two.

👤It's complicated. And no, she's not my girlfriend.

🌙She called you beloved... like twice.

👤I told you, it's complicated.

🌙So is every other woman on the planet! Just how weird could it be?

👤I'm Batman.

🌙Never mind.

...

🌙Is she your sister?

👤I would stop talking now.

 **A/n: Contrary to what I said, here I am again! As a little clarification for this chapter, I didn't want to give too much away, so I was being painfully vague. Batman was being painfully quiet. Talia was being painfully suspicious. And Jayden was just being a pain. I don't like stories with plot lines that are painfully obvious, so I'll be keeping you guessing till the very last second. Just a heads up, the thing about writing this for fun and for myself is that I don't give a flying hug-muffin about how accurate it is to the comics. Who cares if Ace showed up AFTER Tim turned into the Joker (whatever the heck that's all about). Anywho, I need to go battle the evil little black bug infestation in my ceiling fan (which nobody believes exists). Batman has a sense of humor. Deny it if you dare.**


	35. Chapter 35

Dear Beloved,

It's just one of those days were a dude dressed up as a clown spray-paints the entire front half of your shop neon pink. I mean. What. The. Frappe. Thankfully, Moldy Harvey and I got back together long enough for him to teach me how to professionally maim people. Preferably clown people. Except now I have to find a way to either scrub off evil from the side of the mannequin factory, or paint it over. Both sound expensive, and I'm more of a dollar a day kind of business owner. I just hope my costumers like colorful. Anywho, don't think I'm going to forget that little chat we had with your mystery lady the other day. Like ever. And I'm not getting rid of her early Christmas present to me either. My curiosity trumps your bat-glare. And your bat-glare overpowers Trump. I'm telling you... there's always room for another election candidate. But with that little nugget aside, you know that I'm just gonna keep pestering you about "Talia" until you either get Pooperman*cough*Superman to chuck your phone to Mars or tell me all about you're not-girlfriend/not-sister. I'm not-budging. Does she have something to do with the shadow ninjas? If that's true, then this is somehow personal for you (since you two didn't sound like complete strangers meeting for the first time). On second thought... don't tell me anything. I do not want to get caught up in all this drama from your world. Just let me run my repairs shop, train with a retired dirtbag, and worry about spray paint wielding clowns... and hamster wheels. Cause I have a feeling that my life will never be normal again after I learn the truth. I'm keeping the lightsaber though.

BJ🌙

Dear Jayden,

I was surprised at your sudden decision to not want to know anything about what's going on. But that doesn't really matter since I wasn't going to tell you anyways. Like ever. And I'm just going to assume that you were joking about crippling the clown because we both know you can't fight for your life. Literally. And if Talia really did give you a lightsaber... I will be having words with her later. That being said, I really think you should get rid of the cylinder device. And that's more of an order than a suggestion. You have no idea how dangerous that woman can be, and if you really don't want to be involved, then stop trying so hard to get in the middle of it. I swear, it's like I'm trying to convincing a bull to pick a new favorite color.

Not The President👤


	36. Chapter 36

Dear Horn Head,

It's not my fault that I was born with this annoying, curious, hyperactive, mischievous, and meddling personality! My soul instinct is to do the exact opposite of what authority figures tell me to do (although I've gotten pretty good at keeping that instinct in check). Like when you said that you had no intention of telling me anything anyways... I had the overwhelming urge to start bugging you about it again. But I'm better than my urges. So I'll shut up about it. Even though I want soooo bad to pester you just for the sake of annoying people everywhere. But nope. Not giving in. Casually changing the subject, it's starting to get cold around these here parts, and I'm not just talking about how loneliness chills the soul. I only just noticed that it's probably fall (s'not like I have a puppy calendar to check) which means I gotta find me some better clothes. I have a feeling jeans and a t-shirt aren't going to cut it. Look on the bright side, I might just find an abandoned Walmart around here somewhere. If that search goes south, I might just have to drag myself to taking some clothes from the pool of all charity saps. Or I'll just freeze to death. Both are equally degrading. I don't expect you to help because I specifically told you to stay away... and I mean it. I won't ask about your love life if you don't try to be the hero for once. I can survive on my own, thank you very much. I just hope the cold gives Moldy Harvey a reason to stay away, I have mixed feelings about working my fingers off from frostbite. And for your information, I can in fact put up a bit of a fight now that I know how. Okay, so maybe I can only defend myself from old ladies with gardening shovels, buts it's a start. I like to think that wit always wins over strength... but I'm usually one for wishful thinking. If all else fails, I can always talk my adversaries into submission. That would be a sight to behold. Your probably right about your not-girlfriend/not-sister being dangerous, but since I have a bad boy reputation to uphold, I'm keeping the jacked up piece of Star Wars memorabilia Miss Talia gave me to fix. I guess no one told you, but Curiosity got bored and started killing catbirds.

Jedi BJ🌙

Dear Jayden,

I can honestly see how hard it is for you to hold back your impulse to be meddling. You must be struggling on the inside to go against your BJ nature. To think that you've matured enough to know when not to talk. Which I thought was impossible. Of course, you can't be completely mature and get rid of the device like I told you to. What a horrific idea that would be. Listening to me? Nah. You should just do the opposite of what Batman says and keep the possibly dangerous technology that a lady who threatened your life gave you. That sounds like a logical plan. So does inviting over an assassin for a cup of tea. Since I can't communicate anger through a text message without using all caps, I'm settling with sarcasm. You have been reprimanded. Anyways, you do realize you can't keep me away forever? There will be a point where I'll have to save you whether you like it or not. But until that day comes, you can stubbornly refuse food, shelter, and clothes all you want. But seriously? I can't even mail you a sweater?

Bruce👤


	37. Chapter 37

Dear Santa,

All I want for Christmas is you not wriggling down my chimney and getting soot all over the living room floor! I bet you have no idea how hard it is to get cookie crumbs and eggnog out of the carpet since Mrs. Claus does all the grunt work for you! I'm mean, ga! Roof tiles aren't cheap you know! And they're not a landing pad for your reindeer either! Last year the neighbors called the cops saying that there was a fat guy breaking in entering! You can imagine what a merry Christmas I had having to explain to the police at four in the morning that my little kid still believes in you! And don't even get me started on those tools of violence you call toys! What kind of example do you think you're setting for the children?! And for goodness sake... learn how to use a damn exercise machine!

He he, I've been wanting to do my ranting mom impression all year. The season has finally come. A time for Happy Holidays and good cheer... and don't forget the blissful death of many a parent's bank account. Ah, what a joyous season. I meant to start this message by telling you about how Hippy Longstockings bailed on half the money for fixing the grandfather clock... but hey, it's the Christmasy month, I'm trying to be jolly little lad. Except I hate that peace-loving tie dye headband for trying to laugh off thirty bucks. Seasons greetings can go suck a candy cane. So what if all her clothes got shredded because her mom's evil pet Golem has an understandable dislike for hippies. I generally don't trust anyone who blames their bad choices in washing-machines on their cat. For some weird reason, she suggested telling me an insightful story to make up for the loss. And since I didn't want to scare off a customer, I agreed. Plus, it's an insightful story from a hippy. Who wouldn't? So it went a little something like this.

There once was a little girl who lived in an old house at the end of a dead end road with a broken lamppost. The little girl lived in the old house all by herself since her family left long ago. The one rule the little girl had was to never keep the windows open, since the old house creaked and groaned whenever they were. So every night the little girl made sure the windows stayed firmly shut, and every night the little girl went to sleep feeling empty. For as long as the little girl could remember, this is what she did. Until one night, the old house began to feel so suffocating it was unbearable, so the little girl threw open her windows without a single thought to her only rule. The little girl went to sleep that night feeling alive for the first time in a long time. When the little girl woke up the next morning, she felt cold. The little girl tried to open her eyes, but they refused to listen. Eventually, the little girl was able to see, but what she saw terrified her. The entire room and everything in it had frozen over. Her mirror, her night stand... even the little girl herself. She tried to move, but the cold seeped through her skin, almost reaching her still beating heart. All seemed lost to the little girl as she almost closed her eyes for the last time... but the sole thing that saved her came from the open window she had thought was dangerous. It was a firefly. A small and fragile thing that glowed with a feint light. The firefly approached and rested over the little girl's heart, sending warm through her whole body. Cupping the firefly in her hands, the little girl rose from her bed and walked out her bedroom door. The entire house seemed to creep with the chilling frost, but a path was cleared from the light of the tiny firefly. When the little girl reached the front door, she turned the handle and opened it to meet an even warmer light. It was the broken lamppost. It had come back to life.

I know right? Weird. Even for a hippy. It's definitely not one of those heartwarming Christmas stories you tell your kids around an open fire. And I have absolutely no idea how that was supposed to be "insightful". Maybe she meant five dollar fortuneteller rip-off kind of insightful. Or maybe I'm just super dense. No way. I'm totally not the kind of guy to ignore Batman when he says to get rid of the potentially dangerous device that a lady who threatened my life gave me. I'm also not dense enough to refuse a sweater. The first one was sarcastic, the second was not. I will take the friggin sweater, damn it. And I don't want to hear a word about it. EVER.

Jayden Archer (you'd remember me from the naughty list)

Dear Concerned Mom,

Really. Don't expect anything more than a lump of coal in your stocking for that angry mother impression you did. No matter how realistically ironic it was. I'm pretty sure your name is in fact on the naughty list... written in permanent marker. I'm surprised you let your "valued customer" get away with giving you half of the payment you obviously worked hard for. It's unlike you. SO unlike you as a matter of fact, that I suspect you're planning on using that lump of coal in your stocking as part of your revenge scheme. Because everyone knows that all forms of fossil fuels are a hippy's kryptonite. But anyways, I might be able to shed some light on your dense disposition. The story. It does have an insightful meaning to it whether you can understand it or not. You see, the little girl isn't actually a little girl... it's an old woman. The house is actually the person, and the little girl is the heart of the lady. She's still a little girl on the inside, but the house (body) itself is aged. The story says that the little girl's family left long ago, but in reality, the woman closed the doors to her heart and shut them out. So the old woman is alone. She refused to re-open her heart (the windows) for fear of the pain that comes with it (the creaking and groaning of the house). So she stays locked away on the inside. But eventually, the old woman begins to feel regret and remorse (the suffocating) and decides to open her heart again. But by then it's too late. She's become old, and her time chance to live disappears (the freezing of the house). But it's the last part that is unclear to me. Either she dies and is lead to her final resting place... or is saved by the person she opened her heart to (the firefly) and decides to live again (the glowing lamppost). But I think that's for the person hearing the story to decide. So yeah, I'd say that wasn't just a five dollar rip-off kind of insightful. Pretty deep for a hippy, don't you think?

Secret Santa👤


	38. Chapter 38

Dear Giver Of Sweaters,

Whoa. Just. Whoa. Next time I see Hippy I'm gonna ask her for another insightful story. Maybe she's some kind of wisdom-granting monk in disguise! Though I hope she can't read minds... I've thought some pretty naughty list worthy things in her direction. Grrrr! If Cody had heard that story, she would have figured it out in a second! I'm at a disadvantage I tell ya! My brain's not cut out for all this philosophical mumbo-jumbo riffraff ulcermania! *sigh* It's back to the books after Christmas break I guess. I'm not thanking you for the sweater because it looks like a leprechaun and a tomato had a baby and that baby puked on this sweater. I'm guessing it's re-gifted. And I'll be damned if the leprechaun and the tomato are on the nice list. Seriously. Cursed for LIFE. Ewwwww... getting the image of that whole sweater thing out of my head now. Eject! EJECT!

[Blackjay is inducing a concussion]

Alright, one giant mallet to the head later, and everything is all good... at least until Saint Patrick's Day rolls around. Or I watch Veggie Tales any time soon. Oh hug-muffins.

[Blackjay is inducing a concussion]

Oooowwww... I hope all these floating spots in my vision aren't permanent. Like my permanent record at the North Pole. I'm such a naughty little boy. Oh, and thanks for the tip about Hippy's greatest weakness. I'll put it to good use. I feel the monotonous laughter coming on again. MWAHAHAHAHA! HE HE HE HE HE! NYAK NYAK NYAK NYAK NYAK! What? I couldn't resist throwing in a little Penguin action at the end there. Oh boy, I think those whacks to the head with a mallet are getting to me. But hey, iz Chrizmaz yez? Notin ta be worri'd bout eh? *hick* I fink i'v hed too mech eggnog. *hick* Whopsy! Uuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllll righty then! That wasn't weird, like, AT ALL. I feel so dizzy. Maybe I'm just tired. Or maybe I'm just the only person in the world who gets tipsy over eggnog. Oy, what the heck man. What am I even writing now? Mmmmmmmmm... I'm going to bed now before I say something even stupider and morally WRONG. And by bed, I mean the pile of mannequins in the corner. Not. Creepy. At. All.

Too Tired To Care🌙

Dear Jayden,

Are you feeling nauseous? Because either there's something seriously wrong with you, or you're just doing what you always do. Acting like an idiot. But you haven't been known to be dishonest in your messages, I'm going to assume the worst. You do realize it's around freezing temperature outside, right? You could get pneumonia or worse... death by stubbornness. And don't you try to convince me that one of Alfred's old Christmas sweaters is enough to stop frostbite, because we both know no leprechaun and tomato rejoiced after its creation. So I'm going to tell you this once before taking drastic measures... go to a homeless shelter until winter is over. Or at least until the weather is bearable. You can die of food poisoning. You can die of metal infection. You can even die falling from extreme heights if you want to. Just don't die now. Any other time is fine... just not now. Oh, and I'll be saying the same thing next time you decide to risk your life too. Food poisoning, infection, and fall damage are just the least likely causes of death for you at the moment. Anything else is completely plausible.

I'm Batman (just a reminder)👤


	39. Chapter 39

Dear Muffin-Hugging Frappe-Eating Son Of An Oyster,

You know, I thought if I didn't respond I could get away with living in the mannequin factory through the winter. I thought you wouldn't dare come near me if I disobeyed your orders. But no. Not in a pastry-pushing lifetime would you frappe'n care what I did. Because somehow I went to sleep last night in a pile of mannequins and wake up this morning in a pile of homeless people. What. The. Fudge. BATMAN. How the huckleberry did you get me to a homeless shelter without me noticing?! And how the crabapple did you convince every single person in this dump to keep me from leaving?! Oh. Cause you're Batman you say? WELL SHNIZZLE YOU BATMAN! (Deep breath BJ) *sigh* Okay. I'm done. I just used my entire vocabulary of curse word substitutes (plus a few new ones) to express my pure raging fiery and frustration. But I'm fine now. Really. Maybe. I'm going to curl up in this makeshift human cot and get back to you when I'm feeling a little less emotional. Might take a while though.🌙


	40. Chapter 40

🌙Oh yeah, if you're interested, here's that list of my curse word substitute vocabulary: Muffin-hugger, frappe, shnizzle, son of an oyster, pastry-pusher, fudge (gotta love the classics), huckleberry, and crabapple. Have I missed any?

👤Mmmm... didn't you call me grumpy cat once?

🌙Yeah, but that doesn't count as a substitute.

👤Sounds pretty insulting to me.

🌙Well, I also called Moldy Harvey a dirtbag AND a fleabag. Those don't count either.

👤You've actually put thought into this?

🌙Oh yeah, we homeless folk gotta keep our minds sharp!

👤You're still angry.

🌙I see that isn't a question.

👤Well I did forcefully remove you from your mannequin pile and dumped you with the Amish against your will.

🌙See how you used "forcefully" and "against your will" there? It's called a violation of human rights. And as for the Amish freaks, their rules are way too strict to be human!

👤They're good people... I hope.

🌙No. No no no no no no NO!

👤Something wrong?

🌙Yes there's something WRONG! I've been introduced to a free spirit's birdcage! That's what's wrong!

👤What happened?

🌙EVERYTHING! I got woken up a three in the morning to scrub the bathroom! WHO EVEN USES THE BATHROOM AT THREE IN THE MORNING?!

👤Just calm down and explain everything to me from the beginning.

🌙Okay okay. So this entire place is like a giant lab rat maze of makeshift walls and bunkbeds, right? And two people share one "cubicle" to sleep in and keep any of the junk they have. My roommate naps most of the time (which is a relief) but that's not the main problem.

👤What is?

🌙The Amish. The Amish are coming. Oh frappe! I gotta hide!

👤Jayden, what's going on?

🌙Can't talk right now! If they find this phone I'm dead! Sorry B-man, I'll try to text you when I can.

[Blackjay is hiding from the Amish]

👤BJ, what's going on? It's been a whole day.

🌙Oy, if I have to look at one more dirty dish I'm gonna upchuck some unlucky eggnog.

👤Jayden.

🌙Whaaaaaaaat?

👤The Amish?

🌙Mmmmm... so tiiiiiired!

👤How much energy does it take to move your thumbs?

🌙Grrrrrr! Fine! The Amish are the evil taskmasters from the depths of Tartarus known as the Safe House. The "safe" part being highly questionable.

👤I'm only hearing complaining about scrubbing bathrooms and washing dishes.

🌙Oh no, it's much worse than that. Did you know that their dress code here is so similar to a prison it's cryable? I say cry because I've lost the ability to laugh.

👤What's wrong with having clothes?

🌙These aren't clothes. These are the leprechaun and the tomato's ugly cousins. They're YELLOW. I HATE that color! It's too friggin cheerful for a miserable place like this!

👤Aren't prison clothes orange?

🌙I'm telling you, man. Yellow is the new orange.

👤If you understood that reference... you'd be ashamed.

🌙And what if I said I did?

👤I'd disowning you.

🌙Kidding. I have no idea what you're talking about.

...

🌙Or do I?

👤Idiot.

🌙Ah, the cue to change the subject. Alright then, my prison mate is a total rebel.

👤You're one to talk.

🌙No seriously! She's so steam'n hawt that the Amish absolutely despise her! She even makes frumpy yellow mustard sweats look me- _yow_. But she's like a total old lady... late twenties maybe?

👤You consider that old?

🌙My first instinct when introducing myself was to insult her royal spiciness. So yes. I called her old.

👤How did she react?

🌙She smirked at me. Like flat out s-bombed me! Only I get to be that awesomely annoying!

👤What did you do?

🌙I asked if she could teach me in the ways of old lady sass. She agreed. I'm in heaven. Except, you know, in hell at the same time.

👤Do you know who she is? It might not be wise to make friends with people like "that".

🌙I call her Cougar because she's the very definition of an old lady stalker. She hasn't stopped me so far. And what do you mean by "like that"?

👤You know what mean. A troublemaker.

🌙Oooooh, and here I thought you were jealous cause I'm bunking with a real smok'n piece of woman.

👤Jayden...

🌙What? I did call her old, didn't I? I'm not really into antiques... or anyone in general. I feel empty of all romantic emotion actually.

👤It's not the romantic kind that I'm worried about.

🌙Really? We're having the talk NOW? Cause I'm surrounded by at least two hundred hobos at the moment. The location is to be desired.

👤Idiot.

🌙Fine. I'll change the subject. Cougar is awesome.

👤You mentioned that.

🌙No seriously. She's the kinky kink in the Amish overlords' oppressive chain. She somehow manages to smuggle stuff from the Amish people's "secret chambers" without anyone noticing. I need to get her to teach me how to steal stuff like that. It's unreal.

👤Oh no.

🌙Oh no what?

👤Does this lady happen to have short dark hair and green eyes?

🌙Yeah... how did you know?

...

👤No comment.

🌙You know something don't you?

👤No comment.

🌙What I don't know can probably hurt me. Like 99% percent of the time.

👤Still no comment.

🌙Seriously? She my ROOMMATE. How can you not tell me?

👤I'm worried at how you might react.

🌙I am on the bottom bunk, there is literally no distance from here to the floor.

👤Not that kind of reaction. I'm worried you might actually get _excited_ about it.

🌙Seriously? Now you gotta tell me!

👤It will probably set you on a path of self-destruction. I'm not prepared to be responsible for that.

🌙Oh, come on! This isn't- aww crabapples! The Amish are coming! This conversation isn't over!

[Blackjay is hiding from the Amish]

🌙Someone end my miserable life! Please! I can't take this much torture!

👤You've only been there for three days. It's not even Christmas yet.

🌙Well, ho ho friggin HO!

👤The attitude it getting old.

🌙So is Cougar. Which is why you should tell me her secret before she keels over.

👤I know of no secret.

🌙Just like I know of no Santa. Give it up, Bats. Brunette Barbie dynamite over here isn't getting any younger (unfortunately).

👤No. And that's final. If you keep asking I'll visit your overseers again and convince them to give you "special" treatment.

🌙*gasp* You traitor! How could you!

👤Just stop pestering me.

🌙But it's my trademark! What do I have if I have not the pester?

👤You have the dirty dishes.

🌙Grrrrrr! I'll get you for this!

👤Yeah, you go ahead and dream-

[ERROR]

[connection disrupted]

[searching for signal]

[reestablishing link]

...

👤I forgot about that.

🌙He he! Still stings doesn't it?

👤I thought I removed that virus.

🌙You can't stop the shock, yo! Its blow to the pride lasts forever!

👤We'll see how long that enthusiasm lasts when I have a little chat with the Amish folk.

🌙Hey! That was payback for going against your word! You can't do anything else or I'll have to even the score again.

...

👤Fine.

🌙YAY!

👤Just don't get to full of yourself.

🌙Puh-leez! When have I ever done something like that?

👤Moldy Harvey. Hippy. Talia. Gargoyle ninja. The Gumball machine. Need I continue?

🌙Nope. You got me at Gumball machine.

👤Don't do anything too reckless while you're at the homeless shelter, okay?

🌙Reckless as in...

👤Starting a riot.

🌙So anything less than that is alright?

👤Jayden.

🌙Okay mom! I won't make enemies out of the Amish! And why do you always say "Jayden" when you're scolding me instead of BJ.

👤Because the meaning behind the nickname is the most ridiculous one I've ever heard. Would you take me seriously if I called you Blackjay?

🌙Well... no.

👤You have your answer.

🌙But usually I get called my full name whenever I'm being scolded. Middle name and everything.

👤What IS your middle name exactly?

🌙You don't know? I thought you already knew everything about my family.

👤Like I said, there are no health records of any kind... birth certificates included.

🌙Well, I would never tell you my middle name anyways. It holds power over a kid.

👤Reeeeeaally?

🌙I don't like the vibe your text is giving off. It sounds schemey.

👤How about we make a deal. I'll tell you the secret about your roommate, and you tell me your middle name.

🌙Nuh uh! No way! Nada! Nine! Nitch! No sir-ee! Never! Nawt on yah life!

...

🌙Let me think about it.

👤Cougar isn't getting any younger.

🌙Yeah... aside from that, is it weird that I literally have the mind of a ten-year-old? Shouldn't a normal fifteen year old be drooling over the fact that they're sleeping one bunk below a goddess?

👤And you're not?

🌙Yeah... no. Not really. All I can think of is, "I hope the old lady doesn't drool. Or snore. Or sleep assassinate."

👤You've been making jokes about her appearance all day.

🌙That's because I'm a ten-year-old with an annoying streak. A really REALLY annoying streak.

👤Then there might be something to what you're saying. You _are_ missing a large portion of your memory. Maybe it's caused setbacks.

🌙Such as...

👤Hormones.

🌙Aaaaaaand the conversation just got weird. Like mega crazy "no you didn't" weird. I'm going to plug my ears now and sing a song of six pence.

👤It would definitely explain the immaturity.

🌙🎶Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye! I forget how many birdies were stuffed in a pie!🎶

👤And the stubbornness.

🌙🎶When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing! Wasn't that a weird desert to give to a king?🎶

👤And the recklessness.

🌙Who would want to eat a pie full of blackbirds anyways? That's disgusting!

👤And the ignorance.

🌙Maybe quail... but I don't know what that tastes like either.

👤And the complete and utter stupidity.

🌙Te he! You said udder!

👤My point has been proven.

🌙But who was there to prove the murder of crows? Is there no justice in the world?

👤Idiot.


	41. Chapter 41

Dear Traitor,

Prison life sucks. Resistance is futile. I can't find the energy to wake up in the morning. Oh, but my roommate is making the whole experience somewhat bearable. We prank the homeless together, we steal from the Amish and give to the poor (ourselves), and all the while hearing and learning things that may not be appropriate for younger audiences. But damn, I would marry the woman if she weren't an old hag *cough* in a completely not-weird way. That aside, I should probably be brainwashed for half the things she "teaches" me. Or at least rated 'I' for "Immaturity". But on the bright side... I no longer need The Talk. She covered that very thoroughly. Scarred for life much? Anywho, when I'm not running from bathroom duty and learning life lessons, I like hanging out on the roof. Cause trust me, when you're in a cesspool of human musk, you take whatever chance you can to get away. Plus it's way too hot in there (present company included) and I like the cold better. Cougar doesn't hang out with me up here because she said she doesn't like the cold. I figured that's because every old person I've ever met doesn't like it either. But when I'm freezing I get all this energy built up and it gives me the urge to do crazy stuff with it. But the Amish refuse to let me jump off tall objects or do anything else fun... so don't worry. I just remembered something, when you dump me here against my will, what happens to Knight? I always fed him before, so I don't want him to die just cause you're being moody. They don't allow pets (which is a surprise since this place is a dog pound) but could you maybe smuggle him here or something? You can consider us _completely_ square after you do it, since a shock to your system is no equal for the torture I'm in. Oh, and Cougar agreed with me about the Christmas sweater... but she used a much harsher terminology than a leprechaun and a tomato. These life scars are just racking up.

The Ghost Of BJ Past🌙

Dear Jayden (insert middle name here) Archer,

Why. Why did you have to be roommates with HER of all people? Why couldn't you be roommates with Clayface? And if she ever finds out that you're talking to me... just don't let her find out. I swear, if there was ever a bad role model you would most definitely take after, it's her. Maybe sending you to live in a homeless shelter over the winter with a bunch of complete strangers wasn't such a good idea. I can only hope that there isn't too much damage after New Year's. But I guess the only thing I can do is trust that you're smart enough to not do anything too stupid. Who am I kidding? Of course you will! You're YOU. And she's HER. *sigh* I'm going to get an ulcer for Christmas... I just know it. I'll see what I can do about your cat, but no promises. I do have a double life you know, it doesn't just revolve around you (although that does seem to be occupying most of my thoughts). But who wouldn't be concerned with an immature 15-year-old toddler sharing quarters with the "Cougar" as you call her. The world knows her by a very different name. Who knows, if I told you what it was you might reconsider your apprenticeship with her. But knowing you... that's as realistic as giving candy to a baby and the baby handing it right back.

Bruce👤


	42. Chapter 42

Dear Concerned Parent,

I'm gonna take one guess and say that Miss Me-yow is one of your former feline foes. Like, say, Catwoman. How do I know? Well... she kinda told me herself. Yeah, that's what I said. But it's not like I know her REAL name, and she doesn't wear much of a "mask" if you ask me... or much of a suit either. So the whole secret identity crisis thing doesn't seem to bother her around me. She said I couldn't be a threat to her even if I tried. Which is discouraging coming from a mentor. But meh, I'm not trying to learn how kick tail from her. It's the sticky fingers and the stealth that interest me. Sure, Moldy Harvey taught me the basics... but it's Cougar that lets me do all the fun stuff. So I mentioned how the Amish dish out chores (or at least complained about them) and I might have implied that I tend to avoid them as much as possible. And that's mostly thanks to the lady. Since sneaking, stealing, and escaping go hand in hand, it's become pretty useful when you want to make a break for it or "borrow with no intention of returning" some extra food. I told Cougar that's what I called "stealing" and see just started cracking up. Like flat out LAUGHING. I don't see what's so funny... it's just what I do. She says my innocence is either cute or annoying or both. I'd like to think that it's _pretty_ clear that I'm more of the annoying type. So we're going with that. Hey, didn't you and Catwoman have a thing going back in the day? You were like Gotham's hot couple for a while. Aaaaaand I just stepped on a landmine didn't I? Hug-muffins. Oh, and I'm NEVER telling you my middle name. I'm not telling kitty mitts either. It shall never be spoken of. I forgot to tell you the funny little story behind me and your criminal combatant's first meeting. You see, I had just been released from the iron grip of my Amish escort and was left make myself at home in my cubicle, when it happened. Catwoman started hitting on me. No. I'm not kidding. That's EXACTLY how it went down. I, of course, did the only thing that came to my BJ mind... called her a creepy old cougar (among other less flattering words) and did my best impression of the bat-glare. You know how the rest goes, she smirked, I gaped in awe and begged her to be the Yoda to my Luke Skywalker. It was all in fun though. I mean she was obviously messing with me... obviously.

BJ The Confused🌙

Dear BJ,

I'm the confused one here. And frustrated. But mostly angry. Not at you though... definitely not you. I mean, I know Catwoman, and that's low even for her. But you're right. She was probably just messing with you... probably. I'm just going to erase the whole you "bunking with HER" from my memory and move on. This is me moving on. I did briefly search the security cameras around the general area of the mannequin factory for your cat, but I haven't seen any sign of him yet. Don't complain that I'm not there looking for Knight in person. It's not my highest priority. And I don't know what rumors you've heard about me and That Woman, but don't let your imagination run wild. Seriously, it's hard enough to keep your crazy reckless impulses in check. And I don't see how doing some actual work for once could hurt you. It's a lesson on discipline that you sorely need. It's somewhat good that you and Cat are, um, getting along. But to tell you the truth, the first time you called That Woman 'Cougar' I thought, "Does this kid have any idea what he's talking about?" But I'm either relieved or concerned to know that you're not a completely in the dark. It's hard to decide whether or not that's a bad thing.

Bruce👤

 **A/n: Grrrrrr! It's so hard to write about this stuff because the whole homeless shelter thing is right off the top of my head. I've written Jayden so much like myself that I'm starting to become self-conscience. You need to realize what a sacrifice I'm making here. It's awkward for me as an author to write awkwardness because that in turn makes me feel awkward. Hmm... maybe I can just try to ignore reviews and write exactly what the characters mean to say: There is a smoking hot chick who used to eat cake with Batman and is now living in close quarters with the boy he's giving advice to. Plus she's CATWOMAN. There. I said it. This story is supposed to be funny because I hate drama along with cheesy romance, the colors yellow and pink, hot days/nights, pancakes without whipped cream, awkwardness, white chocolate anything, awesome superheroes with stupid weaknesses, jump scares, depressed people with great lives, political ranters, and bad plot lines. So basically, comedy is my motivation. In my own mind, Cat is BJ's mischievous older sister in the form of *wolf whistle*. End of discussion. Batman has an awkward side (when it comes to certain matters). It's a theory yet to be proven.**


	43. Chapter 43

Dear Bruce,

So today at breakfast (otherwise known as brown mush Monday) the Amish announced that everyone was going to take part in a gift exchange. Apparently it's supposed to "boost moral", but I would be much more happy with no bathroom duty than any grimy sock a homeless person could give me. I was wondering how exactly we were supposed to do a Secret Santa when half the hobos here are named John Doe, but the Amish informed us that we would only be exchanging presents with our roommates. And there arises my dilemma. I have literally nothing but the clothes on my back to give my "more than just a hobo" cellmate. You couldn't even leave me with a mannequin head? I could at least have pulled that off as funny. The only reason I'm panicking about this is because Cougar said that if I didn't get her something good she'd- uh... let's not go into details, shall we? Anywho, I don't think Cat will appreciate that ugly as shnizzle sweater you dumped on me since she's already made it clear how fudged up it is. I thought about giving her Knight, but he's currently MIA at the moment, and I don't even know if he'll like her. Who am I kidding, she's Catwoman, of course he'll like her! But Knight's my cat, so I'll just have to think of a different pres- ho ho! I just got an idea! I've been hearing rumors that the head Amish taskmaster, Mrs. Helslivitch, actually LIVES here full time. Talk about no rest for the wicked. The lady isn't exactly living off breadcrumbs if you know what I mean, this place is funded by the government after all. So it makes me wonder what kind of shiny little trinkets Mrs. Hel has lying around in her room. You'd think that Cougar (being the professional she is) would have already plundered that place, but she says she's trying to keep a low profile at the moment and doesn't want to draw too much attention to herself. In my opinion, she draws attention just be existing. So that's my plan for the Christmas Eve gift exchange... pray that I live past Christmas morning.

The Grinch That Stole Christmas🌙

Dear BJ,

I tell you not to get yourself into trouble, and what do you do? You get yourself into trouble. This is my life now. I guess all I can say that will really matter is try not to get caught. Because the "Amish" can and will call the cops on your tail if they find you stealing their stuff. You know what? I'm going to lecture about not stealing whether you listen or not. Don't do it. Alright, now my conscience is clear. But you do realize that whatever Cougar's threat was doesn't matter since she won't get away with it as long as I exist. Unless it's a completely ridiculous threat like getting you to switch bunkbeds with a less friendly hobo. I'm willing to bet that's actually what the threat was. I'm also surprised that Catwoman decided to pass up the opportunity to "borrow with no intention of returning" something shiny. But then again, people change. You are not one of those people since you're continuing to do idiotic things without a thought to your own safety. The world can only handle so many miracles.

Bruce👤


	44. Chapter 44

Dear Elf On The Shelf,

It's almost criminal how much sarcasm you can get away with when you're texting someone. The sass is real. I've gotten into the habit of either messaging you under my odd smelling covers or on the roof because I don't want the Amish (or Cougar) to see that I have a phone and are messaging someone with said phone. I swear I see crazy cat lady staring at me when I'm not looking, and I think she's already figured out that I'm talking to someone via POT phone. Let's just hope she doesn't check my text history and see (deleted for secret identity reasons) in my contacts. I feel really nervous of her staring at me for some reason. It's weird. I'm starting to feel anxious about every homeless person or Amish overlord who looks at me funny. This place is really claustrophobic (no pun intended) and I think I'm getting a little paranoid. Screw it, I'm getting SUPER paranoid! I don't know if it's because of my plan to break into Mrs. Hel's room, or because I've been stuck in a homeless cesspool for too long. I just want to go back to being alone in an abandoned mannequin factory with nothing but broken things that need to be fixed and a cranky black cat to keep me company. I'm not a people person when it comes to strangers, believe it or not, and I'm really starting to get jumpy about all these nameless faceless people around. This is all too much even for me. I never thought I'd actually want to be alone in my life... but here I am. I guess people do change. Even people like me.

BJ🌙

Dear Claustrophobic Kid,

It makes sense that you're not comfortable with sharing living quarters with hundreds of sketchy strangers (plus an ex-criminal), but it's still too dangerously cold for you to go back to the mannequin factory. And not to be the bearer of bad news... but I don't think even a viciously stubborn cat like Knight could survive this weather either. It's just not realistic. It's been one of the harshest winters Gotham has ever seen, I would even suggest not taking as many vacations onto the roof. So far it's been pure freezing temperatures and no snow, so there should be no reason to go outside whatsoever. If I haven't made myself clear: Stay inside. You should consider yourself grateful for the shelter the Amish are giving you, no matter how strict the rules. You could have been one of these homeless nameless faceless lifeless bodies I've been finding on patrol. It seems they missed one too many brown mush Mondays.

Bruce👤


	45. Chapter 45

Dear Tripper Of Guilt,

Ug, I feel so depressed and guilty now. Was that your plan? To make me feel bad? Cause it worked! I see life in a whole new light now. Even though that light may or may not put me into a hypnotic trance or coma... but let's think positively. Soooooo, I've made a new friend at camp, Pa! Her name is Laura May and she's a fortune teller/palm reader/hypnotist. She says she's not limited to just these certain talents, but I like to keep an open mind. At least that's what Laura May told me. She read my palm and said I'm very imaginative and tend to get distracted at the worse moments. Hit the nail right on the head. She also read my fortune (we're best friends now) and says I have a very dark future lit with many fires of confusion. The story of my life. And THEN she hypnotized me to do a one-handed handstand whenever the koo koo clock in the neighboring cubicle strikes nine o'clock. It's only five in the afternoon now, so I'll have to wait a few hours to see if it's legit or not. It also depends on whether I can remember how to do a one-handed handstand since I haven't done one since I was five. Wait. I don't remember anything before my ninth birthday... so when do I remember doing a handstand? Oooooooooh, I'm getting major deja vu here. Anywho, how are you not freezing on patrol in this frightful weather? I mean, you KNOW Mother Nature's crabby when there's freeze but no snow. I hope Mr. Freeze himself doesn't get any ideas to liven up Christmas with white one. I'm all for snowball fights and snow forts and everything, but sometimes the need to build a snowman goes too far. I'm guessing someone lived in Florida as a child. I mean, what other origin story could there be? Oh, and I'll bet on Laura May's varied skills that most of those frozen souls you found on patrol were looking for Pokémon. Just say'n.

BJ🌙

Dear Frozen Soul,

I'll just say now that you make the strangest friends. First a retired vigilante, then an insightful hippy, then a cat burglar, and now a fortune teller/palm reader/hypnotist? And am I the only one to notice that the majority of those friends are women? This only makes that ulcer for Christmas even more of a reality. And maybe you don't feel as inclined to feel remorse for the dead corpses that I find littering the streets that I protect, and I can't expect you to understand since you don't see it yourself, but at least have the decency to acknowledge that they used to be PEOPLE with personalities and souls. And who knows, maybe I'm reading you entirely wrong and you're actually really shaken up at the fact that you would've been dead in that pile of mannequins and just as lifeless as them if I hadn't put you in the Safe House against your will. Because that is what would have happened. And Mr. Freeze didn't become what he is because of a snow deficiency in his early life, it's because he thinks he's somehow avenging his terminally ill wife who he froze in time using cryogenics. And I honestly doubt Mrs. Fries caught a cold while playing Pokémon Go. Maybe you should think about what you say (or write) before it comes out. You'll find that you make less enemies that way. And I don't freeze on patrol because I'm Batman. Case closed.

Still Batman👤


	46. Chapter 46

Dear Still Full-Of-It,

And by "it" I mean crabapples. Just chew on that for a sec. Anywho, I will remain completely unresponsive to any emotions concerning death, corpses, death, sad origin stories, death, or frozen Gothamites. I cannot and will not let you see my fear. Cougar said that one of the most important things about being a burglar is that you can't let your enemies see (smell) your fear, cause if you do you've already lost. Not- that- you're- my- enemy... but Cat said that it's basically a guideline for any situation in life, not just for the criminal part. So I'll just keep doing my annoying and joking self no matter how depressed or terrified I wanna be, and eventually I won't be depressed and terrified anymore. Sounds like a good plan, right? Buuuuuuut... since I am aloud to be a little sensitive and not a total jerk, I will take all those sad frostbitten deaths with a grain of salt (even though I have no idea what that phrase means). If I were religious, I would pray for their souls. But I'm afraid I've been banned from every church in the New Jersey after the prank I pulled on Easter Sunday a while back. Let's just say I gave Easter eggs a whole new purpose that day. Oh, I almost feel sorry for the kids found the yellow ones. Almost. I'm holding back the monotonous laughter, if you can imagine. Anywho, it's not my fault that I'm such a chick magnet. Wow. That came out WAY cheesier than I thought it would. Let's start over: the types of friends I attract have nothing to do with my boyish good looks and charming personality. No wait. That was worse. Grrrrrr! Focus! Okay, the fact that most of my friends are female would only be worrying of they were all around Cougar's age (God help her soul), but that's not the case. Hippy Longstockings is in her early twenties, and Laura May looks around forty. Which means they're all- still- older- than... me. AWW HUG-MUFFINS! YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING! *slap* Well it's a good thing Hippy's a customer, Cougar's into bats, and Laura May is- well- Laura May. You'd understand if you'd met her. But I seriously need to find someone my age to talk to, how hard could it be in this mob of misfits. Mission #2: Find friend not 20 years or older. That comes after Mission #1: Break into Mrs. Helslivitch's room for Cougar's x-mas present. Who knows, with the rate this week is going, I might just hit two missions with one stone. I have no idea what that phrase means either. I think my brain packed its lobes and ditched on me when I wasn't looking. I've even started to lose the ability to read! I know because I thought you texted that Mr. Freeze froze his sick wife in an ice cube. And BJ be like 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱! So I just naturally assumed that my brain left my body. Crisis averted.

BJ🌙

Dear Brainless One,

Yes, BJ, Mr. Freeze did freeze his wife in an ice cube (technically speaking). Why is that so surprising to someone who is being watched by shadow ninjas and is sharing a cubicle with a cat burglar? Speaking of Catwoman, she has a tendency to make men (or foolish little boys) do incredibly stupid things for her. It only proves my point that you're breaking into Mrs. Helslivitch's for a simple gift exchange. Incredibly stupid. I also question whether what she's teaching you is... healthy. Realizing your fear and facing it is more important that hiding it away so no one can see it. I wish someone had told me that when I was younger. Or maybe someone did tell me... but I just chose to ignore it. Either way, I think it's a good idea for you to find a kid your age to talk to. As long as they're not a former hero, a current criminal, or an all of the above psychic. I'm seeing a pattern in your friendships so far.

Bruce👤


	47. Chapter 47

Dear Batman (save me),

This was a mistake. How did my stupidity filter NOT warn me this outcome? And why didn't you do anything to stop me?! You say you did? You actually tried to warn me? Oh. I guess this really is all my fault. I will convert from my immature ways. I promise to the Amish gods that I will never do such a stupid act of injustice again. Here, let me gouge out my one green eye and hand it over as a peace offering. *Clears throat* So, did that sound like a genuine enough apology? I'm planning to spring it on Mrs. Hel so I can get the heck out of this cramped metal crate that's considered DETENTION in this hobo joint. That's right, I've been lowered to a dog cage. Why, you ask? Why do you think, detective? I failed in my endeavor to procure a fancy trinket for Madame Cougar. Now I'm bunking in Mrs. Hel's spare tarantula pit. But hey, let it not be said that I'm a complainer. I've FINALLY met someone my age! Wait... I forgot. I'm not thirteen. Meh, he's close enough. Even though it took getting caught red-handed rummaging through an old Amish demon's underwear drawer. As dirty as that sounds... it scarred me more than it appalled her.

Anywho, I've gotten to know this fellow teen troublemaker in arms pretty well in the past twenty-four hours. We're bonding over the fact that his foot is wedged in my liver and my elbow is lodged his skull. In my defense, this is a very SMALL dog cage. Apparently, the Amish haven't had this large of an uprising since the Dark Ages when toilet paper was banned, so they didn't see the need to stock up on prison cells. But all's good in captivity and war! What better way to make friends than to violate each other's personal space? Well, it's not like Cougar hasn't tried to pop that bubble a million times over-but that's a whole other story. ANYwho, about this kid looking over my shoulder as text, his name is Blondie Bomber. Wait—he's now telling me that his name is Skyler. I now proceed to tell him that he has a girl's name. OWW! I forgot that his foot is still dangerously close to my liver. Talk about a feisty blondie. Ouch. Apparently I heard him wrong, his name's actually Tyler. Either that, or he just changed it because of peer pressure from mwah. Pyro Tyler has a nice ring to it, anyhow. He had a stroke of genius with the kitchen stove and decided to make it belch flames whenever it was opened. That didn't make the Amish too happy. Now we're cellmates. I'm pretty sure this kid is my spirit animal. Seriously, he's all my subconscious dreams of burning mannequins come to life! Pyro says hi, by the way. He doesn't believe that I'm actually texting Batman (skeptical little Blondie, this one) so don't get your cape in a twist about secret identities and whatnot.

One might question how anyone can fulfill bodily functions in a cramped caged such as this. Well, the Amish let us out every once and awhile, if not to follow nature's call, then to take grammar lessons. Yeah, we've been forced to do the worst of the worst. I have a whole new vocabulary now, which is sad, because it's making it super hard to squeeze out the funny. Maybe if I hit my head against the wall hard enough I'll be able to forget my maturity. Heh heh, like I need any MORE memory loss in my life, right? Pyro's bugging me to get back to picking the lock on the cage. If only I had my handy dandy tools, that would make this so much easier. And yes, this IS child abuse. How have you not realized that by now? I'm trapped in a dog crate with another not-so-innocent teenager! That should scream a whole muffin-load of screwy! On the bright side, I'm getting out of the Christmas Eve party with my hobo buddies. Something tells me Laura May's gonna break out her stash of licker for the occasion. Which reminds me, Laura May's hypnotism actually works. The only problem is that I can barely keep my head up in this cage... so how am I supposed to do a one-handed handstand?!

Captive BJ🌙

Dear BJ,

You wouldn't be in your situation if you had actually listened to me and stayed away from stealing. Or Catwoman in general. But at this point, I'm just repeating myself. I don't want to say that you deserve the dog cage, because it is morally wrong, but I still have the right to say I told you so. And big NO to the apology. I think that eye-gouging part will offend both the Amish (and whatever gods), so try something less graphic. Or just don't open your mouth at all. I will be looking into the Safe House. I've had a history of homes for the homeless that aren't what they appear to be. But at least they're teaching you something productive... like grammar. But I can see that you're still trying to buck those teachings. People don't actually say "anywho" in real life, but I have a feeling that you could prove me wrong on that assumption. I would be relieved that you found someone your age to talk to, except the conditions that you met under aren't the best. Plus, he's a pyromaniac. That's a word you should know well from your old vocabulary. You notice there's the word "maniac" at the end, right? Of course, you should get along just fine since you have similar flammable urges. Tyler doesn't believe I'm Batman, hmm? He can believe whatever he wants, it won't change the facts.

We can finally agree on something: not joining in on the Christmas Eve party is good. Alcohol is one thing a fifteen-year-old doesn't need in his life. You're reckless enough as is, no one needs you doing drunk backflips off bunkbeds. Just a warning. Also, you don't need to worry about doing an awkward handstand in that confined space. You said the hypnotism only takes effect when the koo-koo clock strikes 9:00. As long as you can't be triggered by the sound, it won't happen. About your loss of memory... I did notice something off when I brought you to the homeless shelter. There was a large scar on the back of your head. It's not easily visible with all the hair (you need a real haircut, ninja shurikens don't do justice) but it's still there, and it looked like it was inflicted by a pretty serious injury. Not a by machine gun named Ducky. Don't get defensive for bringing this up, because I'm sure you're still mad at me on some level for tearing you away from your mannequin factory, but do you remember ever having an injury that bad? Or anything from your childhood, for that matter. That might sound like a ridiculous question for someone with amnesia, but you have to at least try. If you don't, either you can't remember... or you're lying to me. You haven't so far, but it's easy to misinterpret honesty over text.

Batman👤


	48. Chapter 48

Dear Dark Knight,

First and foremost: TRIGGERED! Oh, and Merry Christmas. No wait, should I say Happy Holidays? Happy Hanukah? Mazzeltov? I've got it! Trigger Treat! What a great way to start the festivities, eh? A trigger here, a trigger there, everywhere a trigger-happy triggerer. It just slowly pummels the fun out of Christmas when your cubicle neighbor starts shouting, "SANTA IS RACIST!" Yup. Out of the tarantula pit and into the real muffin-hugging world. I guess the Amish thought it would teach us a lesson to see how the hobos of Gotham like their Christmas-salty beaches with a side of trigger fish. Cougar tells me the X-mas Eve party was total a bust. Laura May got a wee bit too tipsy and accidentally told a black guy his future held white privileges. Cougar couldn't keep a straight face when telling me that, and I couldn't keep my laughter down when hearing it. That's why Pyro, Cougar, and myself are currently hiding in the pantry from the outraged mob searching for us and Laura May. Cougar says she hasn't seen the "all of the above" psychic since the party. No one's found us yet either... and I'm almost impatient to know what happens if they do. I kinda feel bad for dragging Pyro into this, but then again, I kinda don't. He's snarky (the begrudgingly angry kind of snarky) and I'm more of the friendly annoying kind of snarky. Not that I don't adore him to death, but damn, what I wouldn't give to have a mannequin arm on me right now.

Oh, and remember when you told me not to start a riot? Well... whoops. Let's face it, hobo-wide outrage was bound to happen, whether because of my outlandish hair length or my amazing people skills. The former was more likely, seeing as my luscious flowing locks could trigger bald people people across the nation. You'd think hobos would be the last people to get caught up in all this triggering business, and you're right. On a normal day. But practically everyone's has a hangover from last night, so it's ho ho friggin ho for hobos in the Safe House. The Amish wouldn't approve of their behavior if they were here to click their tongues at us, but since they have lives (a real shocker), the stiff-necks locked and barricaded the building and ran home to their eggnog. I almost wish they were here to share in the holiday cheer. Almost. I'm having a jolly time eating all this peanut butter in the pantry. Did I ever mention how much I love peanut butter? No? Well, Cougar's loving on that wine case in the corner. Jealous? I'm not, if only because she'd scratch my eyes out if I came near her. Tut tut. You adults are so possessive of your wine.

ANYWHO (I just triggered you, didn't I?) this whole situation is pretty funny. All of the hobos who aren't seriously ticked off are actually joining in on the witch hunt. Why? Because it's fun, of course! Storming an Amish military base in search of serious offenders is the best adult version of hide-and-seek ever! You know, just ignore the fact that I (company included) might just die from the experience. But hey, all this action is giving me an adrenaline rush like nobody's business... or maybe there's something in this peanut butter. I've been chugging it down like it's the Great Depression ever since I got a taste. Okay, I seriously need water to stop myself from choking on friggin ambrosia. Maybe Cougar's willing to give up some of her collection over there, but I highly doubt it. This message is going long, but I don't care. I'm hyped up on whatever was in that peanut butter (probably Laura May's secret stash of "lady hero") and now I need something to get my mind off the jitters. Pyro's sitting across from me, looking like someone's thrown his dog under the bus, stepped on the gas, and then insulted his dead mother as they drove away laughing. He's not eating any of the glorious food lining the walls. Maybe he's an alien, or maybe he's on a steady diet of one human soul per day. Doctor's orders. Oh, hug-muffins. He's coming over here. That's right, Blondie, go ahead and read a few lines up-OWW! Well, there goes the feeling in my right arm. Happy now, Skyler? Ow ow ow ow-how many "ouchies" will it take for you to stop punching me? Yeah, I know I could just talk to you directly, but this is more fun. You're right, there WAS something in that peanut butter. Now, do you mind? I'm trying to have a conversation with Batman here. He still doesn't believe you're really Batman, B-man. He probably doesn't even believe in the Easter Bunny (totally exists). Hey, why don't you and Santa team up to teach this pyro punk a lesson, eh? Dang, I think that's like the second or third time I've said "eh" in the past message. Well, this one-sided conversation IS freakishly long... even for a rambler like me. Probably because this might be the last communication you get from me, considering that I'll most likely be burning at the stake by the end of Christmas Day. So farewell, and don't expect any answers about my injury-induced amnesia. I'm dead now. Dead birds tell no tales—cat or any of the like.

Dearly Departed🌙

Dear BJ,

Thank you for the Christmas present. I got an ulcer from reading that extremely long message... then trying to figure out what was actually important. Answer: none of it. All you did was ramble. That better not have been "lady hero" (as you call it) in the peanut butter. There's no way the Amish would let that slide. On second thought, they let an entire riot slide. Watch out, they'll probably come back with the entire GCPD at their backs. I would suggest leaving the Safe House entirely if it wasn't for the cold. After a little digging, I found that the "Amish" are far from homely and quaint. All the employees have a German background, leading all the way back to the Nazis. Apparently it's some sort of minor cult (to put it roughly) and they're trying to influence the nation through the homeless of Gotham city. Just so we're clear, this doesn't give you permission to walk up to Mrs. Helslevitch and punch her the face, because I'm positive that you think it's justified since she's supposedly related to Hitler. But it's not. When I said "minor" cult, I meant they can't do much harm other than teach hobos the benefits of a productive lifestyle, aka, chores. And no matter how degrading hard work is to you, that's still not a good enough reason to punch the lady... even if she's a demon lady. Other than locking you and your kindred spirited friend in a dog cage, there's not enough concrete evidence of illegal activity to shut down the Safe House. And even if your over-exaggerated "child abuse" was enough to take down a charity project, I don't see a reason to put hundreds of homeless back on the street to starve and freeze.

On a different note, it's not that hard for me to believe that you started a riot from laughing over triggerisms. It really isn't. But I don't believe that you will let yourself die over something as simple as that. I'd be more surprised if you died from falling off something of considerable height when learning about German background of your caretakers (it's been known to happen before). By the way, in your last message you implied that your memory loss was "injury-induced". This means that you DO know how you lost your memory: because of the injury to your head. You've also been known to throw things off-handedly into your texts, so I could be reading it wrong. But I'm very rarely wrong. How much do you want to bet that you know a lot more than you're letting on? Don't drag out your answer, either. I think I've earned at least that much.

Bruce👤


	49. Chapter 49

Dear Stranger,

Bruce? I don't know any Bruce. I've been texting Batman this whole time. Who are you? Obviously not my Mommy. *COUGH* I think that was just about the worst feigning of memory loss ever... And this is coming from someone with ACTUAL memory loss. But seriously, that was pretty risky putting your actual name in the last signature. Who knows, Pyro Tyler (or Skyler) could've still been looking over my shoulder (the rascal). But you probably knew that, didn't you? You also whipped out the "I deserve that much" line. And here I thought life couldn't get any cheesier than my usual cheddar. So I guess I'll go to the next level on the cheese scale (pepper jack) and tell you that you're right. About the memory thing, not the teen entitlement you seem to be inclined to all of a sudden. Is this a new phase? Are you over Goth already? Anywho, I'll try to do my best to explain that nasty love tap on my head, but be prepared to have this message suddenly end in the longest curse word in the world when I fall asleep with my face plastered against the screen. It's way too early in the morning to crack the funnies, so don't be too disappointed when I just stop trying altogether. Seriously, you are not entitled enough to deserve my jokes, so deal. I'm going to stall with one last little note before I begin. I'm replying so early in the morning because the Amish Nazis DID come back (against my prior hopes and dreams) and yes, they brought the GCPD. Did you have something to do with that? Sneaky, sneaky, Bats. Now the security is super hyped and I can't let the Amish see me talking to my buddy boy Batsy via POT phone. Apparently the Amish suspect that there's stash of actual "lady hero" hidden in the compound. I'm looking at Laura May... but the peanut butter is also a prime suspect. Shnizzle, I'm getting off topic. Totally not on purpose, my soul feels dead from the dreary. I am SO not a nocturnal person.

Anywho, what was the subject of the hour again? Oh right! Memory loss. Some say they have it, others wish they had it, and those who don't know if they have it are the only ones with actual amnesia. I can only assume that I was the second of those at one point, but even that life is coming back in hacked up pieces. Literally, someone hacked up my life and tried to put it back together in the form of a half-and-half kid with mismatched eyes. There was this girl, but she wasn't my sister Cody. She had dark hair and pretty green eyes. I was really little, I think she was too. But everything was messed up, everything wasn't like NOW. It was like someone took an old-timey film strip and took a butcher knife to it. That would be my memory before I was nine. But there was a LOT of memory, so let's say it was a very long film strip. Way too much for a nine-year-old to have. Are you still with me? Because I'm totally lost. Sometimes I can pull together enough of my sanity to remember a whole image, and it's usually the one where we're running. But it's happy running, like the kind you do with your friends when you're kids. So yeah, pretty dark-haired girl, running like hooligans, chopped to pieces. That just about sums up my existence. Why half of my memory is from olden times is a heckava lot of confusing, so don't even try to ask me why it's like that. I still haven't answered the question about the scar on the back of my head, and that's because I don't know what caused it, per say. But since we're still using the film strip terminology, let's say there's a giant blotch of blood over the spot where I got whammed in the skull. I'm THIS close to believing that it was the little girl, but all my memories of her (as jacked up as they are) are all good as far as I can tell. Maybe you and your girlfriend know something that I don't (like everything) and just snicker over my confusion like a pair of old crows. Or maybe it's just your girlfriend, because I can't imagine you snickering... like ever. Laughing, sure. But snickering? Nightmares.

BJ🌙

Dear BJ,

I honestly can't tell the difference between you trying to be funny and just being naturally funny. It didn't sound like you ever stopped to me. As for your memories, I don't expect you to push yourself to remember any more. What you've given me is enough for now. Even so, if you ever come up with any solid memories, don't hesitate to tell me... because all our conversations have been so far are just one giant hesitation on your part. The only question I have is why you didn't bring these choppy memories up sooner? Was it conscience? Or were you unconsciously trying to protect someone? Forget that, I was just thinking out loud... through text.

Oh, and I'm not responsible for the police searching the shelter. The conclusion that the GCPD might show up was just a hunch (I say hunch to avoid using the "j" word). You shouldn't be arrested for anything illegal while the police are there, though. It's not like you've ingested any of the suspected peanut butter. At first I got the impression that Laura May was a sweet old "all of the above" psychic... but now I'm seeing that you've left out a lot about her. Like her double life as a junky. I'm not saying that she's positively the culprit for the heroine stashed in the Safe House (even though you've practically admitted to it) but I pulled up her records, and she has a history of involvement. Of course, she supposedly went cold turkey to start a new life as a fortune teller (or whatever it is she does) but old habits die hard and old addicts die harder. Anyways, who exactly from the GCPD is stationed at the shelter? Just curious. You might run into someone I know. Also, Talia is not my girlfriend, and I'll be sure to avoid snickering in the near future. The last thing I want to do is give criminals nightmares.

Batman👤


	50. Chapter 50

Dear Batarangadang,

I see we're back to formal name-calling. Good thing, too. The fuzz is casing the place like a pack of bloodhounds high on the drugs they're sniffing for. I feel like using criminal speak for some reason. Or maybe that's just BJ speak taken to a whole new level of annoying. Either way, I'm busting outta this joint whether the coppers care or not. I have this sneaking suspicion that Knight is still alive. He's named after you, so he should be too stubborn to die. Moldy Harvey on the other hand, well, I won't be shedding any tears over his gravestone. I will be genuinely surprised if he hasn't been swallowed in his own mold when I get back. But, if he's SOMEHOW still alive, I'm packing my secretary cat, Marzipan the mannequin, Pyro Tyler (against his will), and then ditching it to Jersey. I can't take any more Moldy Harvey. It was bad enough when my bullet wound was biting, I can only imagine what he'll put me through now that it's completely healed. Sure, I'm complaining, but only because he's insane. Give Harv some sanity up there, and I'll be more than happy to risk my life for his satisfaction.

Okay, my rant is over. It's only been a few days since Christmas and the temperature isn't as "deathly" anymore. That being said... I'm seeing snow. Are you seeing snow? 'Cause I'm ready to go jump in it the second enough collects on the ground for me NOT to break a hip. I'm gonna build an Olaf and a snow kitty and a Doberman that looks suspiciously like Batman. I guess my prison breakout can wait, since I've been meaning to convince Tyler to come back with me to the mannequin factory. His customer socializing skills could use some work, but he's got a brain in that ego-bloated blonde head of his. I could always use the backup for repair jobs like *shiver* hamster wheels. I think I can get him to follow me home (like tempting bunny with a carrot) if this one detective keeps pressuring us about our parents. Jim Gordy or something. He should know that kids don't sleepover at homeless shelters when they have perfectly living parents. I think he's gonna call social security on us the next time Tyler insults him and his respectable police force. For once, I'm not one who needs to muff it. You should drop in through this cop's window and scare him out of pestering us before Pyro goes too far. You know, unless he's that "someone you know". Then you two can just have an awkward conversation over the phone explaining why I'm off limits. Good luck with that.

Anywho, I never got to express my contempt for Hitler by punching Mrs. Hel in the schnozzle. The riot and the cops kinda got me sidetracked. But don't worry, I'll make sure to leave behind a goodbye note expressing my appreciation for the caged experience. I'll miss Cougar and her womanly insight, so I'm leaving her the Christmas sweater to remember me by. She can think of that tomato and the leprechaun whenever looking at it. Aren't I an angel? Laura May will probably be marched away when they realize the pantry hides her stash. I'm not as upset about seeing her off because the one-handed handstand got old pretty quick. I suspect the cops will find that murdered koo-koo clock soon enough. Whoops, I need to go. Pyro is signaling that the Mustache Meddler is approaching. I was serious about that phone call, Bats. Don't let me down.

BJ🌙

Dear BJ,

You seem to getting pretty sentimental about leaving everyone at the shelter behind... except Tyler, who you're probably going to kidnap whether he agrees or not. I'm surprised you actually want to have someone to keep you company (besides Marzipan) back at the shop. What happened to the loner phase? It lasted longer than your other 30-second ones, and I'm not exactly disappointed that it's over. I can understand why you want to stay away from Moldy Harvey, mostly because I've been warning you of him since day one. I'm not going to "deal with him" for you because I think you should fight this battle yourself. If it goes south, you always have plenty of mannequin limbs to defend yourself with... and I always have the batmobile. As for the Mustache Meddler you and Tyler are failing to avoiding, his name is Jim Gordon, and he's actually the police commissioner. That makes him just as off limits as you. I'm not going to "deal with him" for you either, just because you've started to feel entitled to my heroic services (that's what this is). You've been so keen on independence this whole time, so you should start backing it up with actions. Don't complain, I'm not abandoning you, but letting you figure things out like this is for your own good. Speaking of which, you still shouldn't wander outside the shelter for too long until the temperature rises above at least ten degrees. Olaf can wait.

Batman👤

 **A/N: It's been a while. No duh, right? I should probably get to the important stuff. Yes, BJ writes extremely long messages, and Batman does his best to match them... but alas, he is no match for the motor-mouth. I don't know what's OOC or not at this point, so just roll with it and assume any mistakes are on purpose. I should probably put a disclaimer that all "political" views are that of the characters and not the author, but you know me, I'm too lazy to care. I don't know whether Ra's al Ghul is really dead or not. The dude has died and been brought back to life so many times in the comics that it's not even funny (I'm sure the Batfamily feels the same). I'm just going to excuse any of that messed up timeline shenanigans by saying that this is officially an alternate universe (yay!). I just got sidetracked from uploading these because I usually do them in my free time... which means I have no free time. Then a painfully long car trip brought this about. I just realized that all of these messages I'm writing are actually pure dialogue. No wonder it's my specialty. Anyways, thanks to anyone who actually find these sudden bursts of writing as enjoyable as I do!**


End file.
